


The Compassion of Demons

by Westward



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Phantom Thieves of Hearts (Persona 5), Bisexual Persona 5 Protagonist, Chatlog Elements, Crushes, Demonic Possession, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Gen, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Possession, Ryuji's bisexual awakening, Touch-Starved, in the weirdest way possible, local demon just wants to hold hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Westward/pseuds/Westward
Summary: The figure standing over Ryuji looked like his best friend. It sounded like his best friend. Hell, it even moved like his best friend. The same tilt of the head as it silently observed and thought. That same spark in its bright eyes. But Ryuji knew that this was not Akira.And yet the figure continued to claim otherwise. With a mouth full of sharp edges and a grin that was borderline feral, with clawed hands that pinned him against the wall with surprising tenderness, it repeated:“IamAkira.”--An AU where Akira goes to Tokyo for his summer vacation, tries to keep Ryuji from catching on to his secret crush, and gets possessed by a demon.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira & Sakura Futaba, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 88
Kudos: 253





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story updates will be weekly on Fridays/Saturdays.

Akira had always spent summers in Tokyo. 

It was mostly in part of his parent’s jobs. They both worked for the same big company, and their high positions called for long hours, and required a lot of travelling both within Japan and abroad. Sometimes for as long as weeks, maybe months at a time. For as long as Akira remembered, both parents spent long periods of time away from Inaba.

It was a rare treat whenever they were all home together. It was a time usually reserved for holidays. And yet even that wasn’t a given guarantee.

Akira’s parents usually only kept in touch with him with texts and long phone calls, most of which ended up as long voicemails. Akira didn’t mind that much; he enjoyed having the option to go back and listen to the long ramblings his mom and dad left him. Sometimes, if they found something interesting in their travels, they’d even send a care package with items or books that Akira might be interested in. 

If it was their way of making up for their time spent apart, Akira didn’t mind that, either. It was their way of telling him that they loved him.

Because his parents were rarely present, Akira was usually left alone in Inaba, under the care of his grandparents. That was how he spent most of his early years, living in his grandparents’ home more often than his own. It was only after his grandparents were starting to get too old to care for him properly that Akira’s summers started to change drastically.

Everything changed when Akira was 10.

There was an old family friend in Tokyo, who had just recently acquired a daughter. Her mother had died in an ugly car accident, but her daughter had miraculously survived it, physically unscathed. But she had been traumatized from it all. Her adoptive father had been doing everything he could to help her, but she needed someone her own age to talk to, a friend to help her open up and recover. 

And the Kurusus were in need of a new temporary caretaker for their young son. A few calls between Akira’s mother and their friend in Tokyo, and it was settled. Akira would spend his summers and any long vacations with the Sakuras. Everyone benefited.

That first summer was when Akira first met Sojiro and Futaba.

And now Akira was on his way back to Tokyo for the sixth year in a row. 

He was more than eager to return to that lived-in cafe tucked in the corner of Yongen-Jaya’s back alleys. To rainy days spent inside, playing retro games with Futaba. To nights spent out in the city with the friends he had made over these past few years. To waking up with that pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and helping Sojiro run the cafe.

It was hard for Akira to focus on anything other than his phone during the long train ride. He had already read through his old messages half a dozen times, and he eagerly waited for his friends to continue the conversation.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Ann: Hey Akira? You said you were coming back to Tokyo again this year. You promised us. 
> 
> Ryuji: Yeah! The semester ended already! Any idea when you’ll be here?
> 
> Akira: I’ll be leaving Inaba in about an hour. So I should be there later in the evening.
> 
> Ryuji: Alright! Finally. 
> 
> Ryuji: We should plan a party for when you get here. Will Boss let us have Leblanc to ourselves?
> 
> Makoto: We shouldn’t ask Boss to close the store just for us. He is trying to run a business, after all.
> 
> Futaba: Don’t worry about it, Koto. Sojiro’ll be happy to do it. 
> 
> Futaba: Besides, you’re gonna make Akira wait for his first plate of curry???
> 
> Futaba: Madness!
> 
> Makoto: Even so, I’m still on vacation with my sister until the end of the week. Can we hold off on the party until we get back?
> 
> Haru: I feel awful for this, but I must second Makoto’s request. I’m also on vacation with my father and our extended family for another week. We won’t be back from Hawaii until next wednesday.
> 
> Ann: Hey, it’s fine with me if we wait. That just means we can plan something a little bit bigger than just Leblanc.
> 
> Yusuke: True, and that way Akira can still have Boss’s curry as his first meal back in Tokyo. That should make everyone happy.
> 
> Akira: That’s fine with me, too. That way I can also spend the night with just Futaba and Sojiro.
> 
> Futaba: You hear that? I’m his favorite. ᕦ(˘ᴗ˘)ᕤ
> 
> Akira: I don’t have favorites.
> 
> Futaba: You don’t have to lie here, Kira. We all know the truth. >:3
> 
> Ryuji: Ah, fine. We’ll wait for everyone to get back first.
> 
> Ryuji: But you’re spending tomorrow with me, Akira. I call dibs.
> 
> Akira: It’s a deal.

The conversation had slowly drifted away from half-formed plans and towards other conversations. Most were about their own daily lives, about people Akira never met and only vaguely heard about, and of things that happened at their schools. He stopped messaging then, feeling sorta left out of the loop. But he still read through their messages, content enough to just read through them.

Despite only spending one month out of the year with these people, they were his closest friends. Akira deeply cared about them all. 

Futaba was like a younger sister to him, and he knew she returned the sentiment. Ever since their first meeting, they were inseparable. Even distance couldn’t keep them separated for long.

Ann was by far the friendliest person he had ever met, and the easiest person to talk to. Haru and Yusuke both had their eccentricities, but that only endeared Akira to them even moreso. They were never afraid to be themselves. And Makoto, who he first thought of as stiff and self-centered, he learned was the most selfless, caring individual out of all of them.

And Ryuji…

Well, Ryuji was Akira’s best friend. The first aside from Futaba to offer him friendship.

The train pulled into the station just as the sun started to set on Tokyo. The transfer between trains took him into the busy streets of Tokyo. Out into the familiar crowds and the hot summer air. The smell of the city which, while probably not the cleanest compared to Inaba’s, was still a welcoming presence. Akira fell into step with those surrounding him, and he followed the path that he knew would take him to the Ginza line.

His railway passcard still worked as he passed through the terminals. Sojiro must have already reactivated it for the summer.

And then the trip was over; Akira arrived at Yongen-Jaya not long after.

The backstreets were familiar in that nostalgic, comforting way. Things were just the way he remembered it; the neighborhood hadn’t changed at all over a year’s absence. The secondhand shop he frequented was in the middle of closing up as he passed, and Akira gave the owner a friendly wave. The old man, who somehow remembered him, returned the wave with a pleasant smile. A quick glance down the street, and Akira could see that the local clinic still looked open. Akira wondered if Dr. Takemi had yet to realize how late it was getting.

But the thing that Akira was most happy to see was Leblanc. It appeared just after a bend in the backstreets. And there he was, back at the place that he considered a second home. The sweet aroma of fresh coffee and hot curry was just as inviting as Akira remembered it to be.

Akira barely made it halfway through Leblanc’s front door before a loud shriek broke the air.

“You’re finally here!” A familiar voice shouted.

Before Akira could recognize the blur of orange hair, he was half-tackled into a tight hug. The force of the hug almost threatened to send him tumbling back out through Leblanc and into the backstreets, but he managed to catch himself in time. The arms wrapped around Akira squeezed him again, and Akira could only laugh as he returned the hug.

He had missed Futaba. 

Futaba finally freed him and turned to look up. Immediately, she started to pout. “No fair! You’re even taller than last year!” 

Akira grinned as he patted the top of Futaba’s head. Indeed, he had certainly grown another couple inches since last summer. The height difference between the two was even more noticeable, as Futaba barely reached his shoulders now.

He ignored her short grumblings in response. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hit your own growth spurt by next Summer.”

“You said that last year, too! I can’t believe we used to be the same height when we were kids.” Futaba grumbled again, but most of the heat in her voice was just for show. Akira could see a faint smile that she was trying to hide. “Stop grinding for XP and let me level up with you.”

“No grinding here, Futaba. I just have a faster build than you.” Akira teased back. That earned him a playful punch on his shoulder, to which he returned without hesitation.

A sigh from behind the counter caught his attention, and Akira turned in time to catch Sojiro shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Stop with the video game speak. It doesn’t even sound like Japanese. Come over here and eat your dinner. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No, Boss.” Akira answered as he stepped further into Leblanc. “All I wanted to do after getting to Tokyo was get here before dark.” 

“You mean you wanted to wait until you could have my curry?” Sojiro’s question was pointed, and accompanied with a knowing smirk.

“Alright, you caught me red handed.”

Sojiro sighed again, shaking his head as he did so. But Akira could just catch the soft smile that the older man was trying to hide. Sojiro made his way around the counter and took Akira in his own hug, patting him on the back a couple times. As Sojiro pulled away, he gave the teen an appraising look.

“You look tired. Sit down and eat something. And then I want you resting for the rest of the night.” Sojiro said. “The trip from Inaba always did tire you out.”

“Sojiro. I’m not 10 anymore.” Akira said, blushing a bit from embarrassment, but nonetheless did as he was ordered. Akira claimed one of the stools by the counter and set his travelbag down beside him. 

“And yet your parents still insist that you spend your summers with us in Tokyo.” Sojiro commented. “Not that we’re complaining. It’s always nice to have you around.”

The conversation stalled as Sojiro’s attention returned to the pot of curry. As he stirred it, Futaba jumped into the barstool next to Akira. She purposely bumped into his shoulder before finally settling in her seat. Akira pulled out his phone and messaged the others of his safe arrival, to which he was rewarded with a flood of responses.

Dinner was served soon after. Three plates for all three of them. They moved over to the booths, with Sojiro joining them despite the fact that Leblanc was still open for business. And the three talked while they ate. Sojiro continued to question Akira about the journey, as well as the standard couple of questions about how his parents were doing. And then it moved on to questions about what he already had planned for his vacation.

“Ryuji already called dibs on Akira.” Futaba answered for him, momentarily pausing between bites. “Knowing him, they’ll probably just spend all day at the arcade in Shibuya. Maybe they’ll go to Ryuji’s favorite ramen place.”

“Ryuji has a favorite ramen place now?” Akira asked.

Futaba nodded. “Uh huh. He goes there with his track teammates all the time. Always mentions about bringing you there, too. Oh, and I definitely remember Ann talking about taking us to some fancy buffet too at some point.”

“The really expensive one? I don’t have enough money for that place.” Akira said with a slight frown. 

They went once, last year. It had cost a sizable portion of his spending money. Enough that it forced Akira to work a part-time job halfway through his break. That hadn’t been fun.

“You really think Haru will let you get away with that excuse? Nuh uh, Akira.” Futaba said. “We have a friend who is filthy rich! We should take advantage of that when we can!”

“How can you guys still talk about food after eating all that?” Sojiro asked, confused.

“We’re growing children. We need to eat a lot.” Akira answered dryly, and then he took a pointed bite out of the last bit of his curry.

“Ha ha, very funny. You’ve certainly done enough growing for the two of you.” Sojiro said as he stood up and started to clean off the table.

Akira stood up as well, moving to help Sojiro clean up. He remembered where the spare apron was, and went to work scrubbing the dishes clean. Futaba, not wanting to head home yet when Akira just got here, moved back to the counter. Sojiro served her a cup of coffee while the two teens talked, but nonetheless fell silent, listening to their conversation.

Akira was about to brew his own cup of coffee, but Sojiro immediately stopped him.

“I was being serious earlier. Early to bed tonight, Akira.” Sojiro said. “You look exhausted.”

And Akira was about to argue back, but was stopped before he could even open his mouth. A yawn was threatening to bubble up and out. And not wanting to prove Sojiro’s point, he did his best to bite it back down. Even so, Sojiro gave him a knowing nod. Sojiro took the coffee pot out of Akira’s hands and put it in the sink, ending any further discussion on the subject.

“Go take a bath to calm down.” Sojiro said kindly, but it was more of an order than anything. “It’s about time that I close up shop anyways.”

“But Sojiro! We can’t leave yet! There’s some new games I wanted to show Akira tonight.” Futaba said.

“And you can show him them later. You guys have all month to do everything you want to.” Sojiro said. “Let Akira have enough time to settle in first.”

Futaba let out a groan before turning to Akira. “Fine, but after you’re done with Ryuji tomorrow, we’re playing through Mega Punch-Out, even if it takes all night!”

Judging by her hardened expression, Akira knew she meant business, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Akira nodded. “It’s a deal.”

* * *

After a trip to the bathhouse across the street, Akira was ready to settle into his room above Leblanc. The old attic space had changed ever so slightly since last summer. Just like it had the summer before, and the one before that as well. 

The first time Akira had spent summer in Tokyo, he had lived in the Sakura household, sleeping in their living room on the pullout couch. It had been a bearable arrangement at the time. Yet by the third summer, when Akira and Futaba were both no longer children, yet not quite teenagers (both awkward with their growing limbs and quick to anger from raging hormones), it was decided that Akira should move up to the attic space above Leblanc. It had been getting cramped with all three living in their small home, anyways.

That first year spent in the attic, it was bare bones and still clearly used as a storage space, with only a mattress stacked onto old crates and some shelves cleaned off for Akira’s belongings. It had a dust and lighting problem, which ultimately caused Akira to come down with some sort of sickness. It had kept him bedridden for a full week.

And it had honestly scared Akira to be left all alone like that. Left on his own in a place he wasn’t familiar with. It hadn’t mattered that he was 13, he had still been a terrified child. That first summer in the attic, Akira hadn’t gotten much rest.

Now, however, Akira was used to sleeping in the attic space. 

It was in part because Akira had grown accustomed to it, as well as the fact that Sojiro had clearly tried to renovate it to look more like an actual living space. This year, the mattress had been replaced with a proper futon (oh, how Akira knew how happy his back would be from now on; those crates hadn’t been comfortable), and while the shelves were still there, there was also a proper wardrobe as well. An old shabby carpet covered the dirty floorboards, and there were new light fixtures that hung from the ceiling.

The ceiling above was still exposed, and the walls still barren, water stained, and cracked. But what could Akira expect when Sojiro only had so much time and money, and Akira only visited once a year. Twice, if he was lucky.

At least the old TV and game console looked untouched, if a bit dusty. 

Akira changed into his pajamas fairly quickly. And then Akira fell into his bed, letting out a satisfied groan as he felt the softness of the mattress. He enjoyed the feeling of sinking down into the comfy bedding. He was reluctant to admit it, but Sojiro had been right: he _was_ exhausted. And damn, this bed was _inviting._

Akira’s eyes felt heavy even as he stared at his phone. It took some concentration to focus on messaging Ryuji about tomorrow, and Akira knew that he’d be completely out by the time he finished. Thankfully, Ryuji answered him almost immediately.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Akira: Any plans for what you want to do tomorrow?
> 
> Ryuji: Nothing really concrete. I just really wanted to hang out with you, man. 
> 
> Ryuji: Maybe we hang around Shibuya, or we could check out some new places that just opened up at Kichijoji.
> 
> Ryuji: Thoughts?

Akira felt some heat in his cheeks, and he knew that it wasn’t from the hot bath he took. Placing a couple fingers against his cheeks confirmed that he wasn’t imagining it. His heart did a quick flip in the kind of way he wished it wouldn’t, but also didn’t mind at all, either. Conflicting emotions, and all that nonsense. 

Ryuji wanted to hang out with him. He wanted to see him. Just because.

_Because he’s your best friend._

Yet even that thought didn’t stop the rise of… whatever this was that Akira was feeling. That deep feeling of something thick and heavy like tension. It felt hot in his chest, just as hot as the unwelcome flush in his cheeks. Akira fidgeted in place before sitting up, suddenly restless despite his earlier exhaustion. He tried to calm himself, but instead couldn’t help but let out a groan and stare at Ryuji’s messages.

_(He knew what he was feeling, but he didn’t want to admit it. Admitting it meant facing it. And facing possible rejection)._

Akira did his best to ignore how his insides were still flip-flopping in that annoyingly hopeful way as he responded to Ryuji.

> Akira: We should probably save Kichijoji when everyone gets back.
> 
> Ryuji: Yeah, you’re probably right. I know that Makoto was interested in that new darts place that opened up.
> 
> Ryuji: So Shibuya it is then.
> 
> Akira: Shibuya it is.
> 
> Ryuji: Awesome! We can meet at Leblanc if you want.
> 
> Akira: Why? You have to go through Shibuya to get here. It’ll save you time and money if we meet at central street.
> 
> Ryuji: Come on man, I haven’t seen you since last year!
> 
> Ryuji: It’s been freakin’ lonely without my best friend around. Why not have breakfast at Leblanc and then head out?
> 
> Akira: You just want a free meal from Sojiro. I’m telling him before you get here.
> 
> Ryuji: Dude! That’s not what I meant! You know that.
> 
> Ryuji: Also, I’m pretty sure you’ll still be asleep by the time I get there. So your threats won’t work on me.
> 
> Akira: Alright, fair.
> 
> Ryuji: Sweet! See you tomorrow!

With that, Ryuji left the chat. Akira took a moment to try to recollect himself, only to fail miserably. He fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. He concentrated on the sounds of the city outside, but it wasn’t enough to fill the static in his head. Akira took his pillow and shoved it in his face, blocking out the light that filtered through the window above him. Akira let out a loud, muffled groan before rolling over onto his stomach.

His heart still felt like it was fluttering.

“Stop it.” Akira mumbled to himself, hoping that words would calm him. “We’re just going to hang out. We’re friends. Just friends.”

And that was enough for him. Really.

Yet even with that thought, Akira was left to come to terms that his crush on Ryuji hadn’t diminished at all since last summer. If anything, it might have grown.

At least his one saving grace was that Ryuji was totally oblivious.

* * *

By the time Akira got up, dressed himself, and headed downstairs into Leblanc proper, Ryuji had already laid claim to one of the booths. The table in front of the boy was empty save for a can of soda, which was already open, and Ryuji’s phone. Ryuji grinned at the sight of Akira and waved him over. 

As Akira approached, Ryuji stood up from his seat. He quickly made his way to Akira’s side, and he draped an arm around Akira’s shoulders, pulling him into a quick half hug. And before Akira could properly register how close Ryuji was to him, the other teen had pulled away. 

“Told ya that I’d be here before you got up.” Ryuji said through his grin. He sat back down in the booth, one leg bouncing.

Akira grinned himself before plopping into the seat across from Ryuji. “That you did.”

“Seriously dude, you could sleep through an earthquake if you were tired enough.” Ryuji said. 

“How long were you waiting?” Akira asked, frowning slightly. He had thought he had gotten up early enough. And he hadn’t heard Ryuji moving around while he was getting ready.

“Eh, not that long.” Ryuji answered with a shrug. “But long enough for my stomach to start eating itself. Come on, let's eat and get out of here.”

Sojiro finally spoke up, not even bothering to look up from his crossword. “Good, you’re scaring my customers away.”

“Ah, you know you love us, Boss.” Ryuji said.

Sojiro only sighed, but he got up from his seat and headed towards the kitchen. 

They ate their breakfast quickly, especially when a few of the cafe’s regulars started to filter in. Sojiro gave them both a pointed look; despite the jokes and half-serious complaints the older man gave about the group’s general rowdiness, he still had a business to run. And the elderly couple that always stopped by _did_ enjoy their coffee in relative silence. 

Akira and Ryuji left soon after they finished. The walk to the station didn’t take long, but it was filled with idle conversation between the two. Questions and answers that were too long to type and tended to crowd the group chat. Plus, it was just more enjoyable to be physically speaking with one another again. 

It felt good, just having a normal conversation together.

It was so easy speaking with Ryuji, too. They may have spent a year apart, but it felt like no time had passed at all in these moments. Akira only remembered how far away he lived from Tokyo, away from Ryuji and the others when he was stuck in Inaba. 

But he didn’t want to think about that right now.

They were on the train to Shibuya when Ryuji asked him, “So… do you got a girlfriend yet?”

He didn’t want to talk about _that_ right now.

Akira didn’t answer right away; he was much too focused on keeping a neutral expression. He did his best to force a calm mask into place, but internally Akira was panicking about this sudden change of topic. Fortunately, it looked like Ryuji hadn’t even noticed his hesitancy. Yet the boy was eagerly waiting for Akira’s answer.

It was so much easier pretending that he only thought of Ryuji as a friend when they _weren’t talking about this kind of stuff_. This was dangerous territory. Akira didn’t know how long he could keep a straight face and keep the lie going.

_(He certainly didn’t want to confess to Ryuji. At all.)_

Akira cleared his throat as he tried to think of an excuse. “Um, not really. The girls at Inaba don’t really… it’s hard to explain.”

Ryuji was frowning. “What? Are they not hot?”

Akira was quick to shake his head. No, that wasn’t it. Some of them _were_ nice to look at, and they were friendly enough. But after growing up with them, knowing them all from childhood to now, all Akira could see were the young girls he knew from the schoolyard. Akira wasn’t interested in them.

Again, Akira lied with a stiff shrug. “Well, it’s the opposite. I’m a country boy. They don’t find _me_ attractive.”

Ryuji made a face of disbelief and he shoved Akira playfully. “Come on man, I know you’re lying.”

Akira’s body instantly tensed up. Yet Ryuji continued, completely unaware of Akira’s reaction.

“You’ve got that air about you. Y’know, that ‘cute nerd’ look that chicks are totally into now. With those glasses that make you look smart and… well, all that.” Here, Ryuji paused to motion at Akira, from his messy mop of hair and down to his clothes. “There’s no way you’re still single, dude!”

A blush started to reach Akira’s cheeks that he couldn’t stop. In an attempt to hide it, Akira turned to look away, out through the window.

Did Ryuji just call him cute? In a roundabout way?

Akira did his best to quell his rising emotions. Time to shift the attention elsewhere, off of him entirely. “Well, what about you? Are you dating anyone?”

At this, Ryuji visibly slumped in place. “Nah, no such luck. You’d think the girls at Shujin would be interested in athletes, but that’s not the case.”

“Maybe it's because you bleach your hair. It makes you look like a bad boy.” Akira couldn’t help but tease. 

It certainly endeared Akira. He was always fighting off the urge to run a hand through Ryuji’s hair.

“Ha! If that were true, then I’d definitely have a girl by now. Girls love a bad boy just as much as they love a nerd.” Ryuji instantly shot back. Ryuji fell quiet for a moment, clearly lost in thought. And then he looked back up to Akira, another grin in place. “Hey! I know what we should try to do this summer!”

“Oh?”

“Let’s each try to get a girlfriend! We can be each other’s wingman!” Ryuji all but shouted, earning them a few glares around the traincar. Yet still Ryuji didn’t quiet down, as he was too excited to notice how they were attracting attention. “If we work together, I’m pretty sure we can both get a girl before you go back to Inaba.”

Akira tried his best to smile, somehow managing it. His friend’s excitement was infectious, after all. Akira silently nodded in agreement, despite the conflicting emotions that were starting to settle in his gut. Ryuji grinned again and he stuck out his fist. Akira looked at it, and the two boys fistbumped.

“Let’s do it, then.” Akira said with another nod. This might be the push that Akira needed to get over his crush, once and for all. 

“Alright! Operation: Get a Girlfriend is a go!” Ryuji’s voice was rising again.

This time, they were definitely getting hard looks from the people around them. Ryuji finally caught on and looked a little sheepish about yelling out their plans. Fortunately, their stop was coming up next, so they only had to endure their scathing looks for a couple more seconds. Ryuji and Akira made their way towards the nearest door and waited as the train slowed down.

They stepped off the train. 

And almost as soon as Akira’s feet hit the platform, he felt a sharp pain bloom in the back of his head. It spread like a bolt of lightning throughout his head and down his spine, making his hands shake by his sides. Akira let out a cry of pain as he gripped at his head, eyes clenching shut from the unexpected stab of pain. 

He must have stumbled into the crowd, because Akira could just barely hear the protests and grumbles from the strangers surrounding him. And then they started to shove him away.

“Hey! Stop that!” Ryuji was angrily shouting beside him. Too loud. He was too loud. “Can’t you see that something’s wrong with him?!”

Akira’s legs felt like they were about to give out. But before Akira could collapse, he felt strong hands gripping his sides. Wincing slightly, Akira braved the pain and opened his eyes, only to spot Ryuji standing over him. Any traces of excitement on Ryuji’s face had been replaced with worry. His brown eyes were unusually wide, and mouth a thin line.

“Dude, are you okay?” Ryuji asked, voice suddenly small.

“I don’t know.” Akira forced through a pained grunt. 

The bright lights from above were killing his eyes, and he closed them again. He placed both hands over them to keep as much light away from his eyes as possible, almost knocking his glasses off in the process. The pressure from pressing his palms into his eye sockets felt unusually nice against the throbbing pain. Damn, he felt like throwing up all of a sudden. 

Akira continued, his throat threatening to close up on him as he spoke. “Random migraine.”

“Okay, let’s find a place where you can sit for a bit.” Ryuji said as softly as he could.

Ryuji kept an arm around Akira as he led him away from the train platform, away from the bustling crowd. Away from the painful noises of the train hissing as it left the station and the harsh underground lighting. Everything was just _too much_ , and Akira didn’t know how long he could go through this massive wave of sensory overload.

Ryuji must have found them an unoccupied bench, because he plopped Akira down onto something solid and took the seat beside him. Even as Akira felt like curling into a ball and just whimper from the onslaught of pain, he could feel Ryuji softly rubbing his back in a circular motion. Thankfully, Ryuji was completely quiet as he waited for Akira to recover.

His presence felt nice. Akira liked the feeling of Ryuji’s body heat against his side. It was that thought that tethered him to reality.

It felt like forever until the pain in Akira’s head started to subside slightly. Yet it did not go away. It only managed to become bearable enough to ignore. Around them, the rush of people started to disperse, as well as the sounds of the city. Akira forced himself to take several deep breaths before he finally opened his eyes to the world again.

He felt like shit. And apparently he looked like shit, because Ryuji was giving him a sympathetic look. 

Ryuji had only given him that look once before, back when they were both 12. When they were new friends. They had been at the beach, and Akira hadn’t known that you shouldn’t swallow seawater. Akira couldn’t stop puking and the adults were panicking over him and Ryuji had looked _terrified_ because he couldn’t do anything to help.

This was that same look.

“Dude. Maybe we should head back to Leblanc.” Ryuji said, his voice suddenly serious. “We can hang out tomorrow if you need to chill out.”

Akira was quick to shake his head, and then winced when the pain started to swell again. Still, Akira spoke up. “No, no. I’m good. I’m fine. I’m getting better. Let’s just… go somewhere quiet for a bit first.”

Ryuji looked like he didn’t believe that, but he still nodded his head nonetheless. “Sure. Let’s go rest at the nearby park.”

Ryuji still helped Akira up onto his feat, as his legs still didn’t want to work properly. It took a few steps before Akira was confident to walk by himself. And even then, his steps were short and his breath surprisingly ragged. He could start to feel sweat dripping on the nape of his neck. Ryuji was carefully watching Akira, so Akira gave the other boy a thumbs up.

“See? All good here. Lead the way.” Akira said, somewhat proud when his voice sounded completely normal.

Ryuji gave him one last wary look before he shrugged. Together the two boys walked through the underground walkways, the place surprisingly deserted despite the crowd only minutes ago. They must have just caught the tail end of rush hour. Akira thought nothing more of it; he was just glad that the crowd’s absence also meant an absence of voices and loud footfalls. 

But the longer they went without seeing someone, the more Akira felt like something was _wrong_.

If Ryuji noticed it as well, he didn’t say anything. It was only after they left the underground walkways and made it to the surface did Ryuji stop in confusion.

Shibuya’s Station Square. It was completely abandoned. No one was there. The neon signs on the surrounding buildings were turned off, and the roads empty of vehicles. The sounds of the city were gone as well. The silence that Akira had been thankful for down below was now threatening and oppressive.

“What the hell?” Ryuji said out loud, breaking that horrible silence. He then suddenly pointed upwards. “What’s wrong with the sky?”

The sky? Akira hadn’t even noticed the sky. He had been too focused on what was missing on the ground. 

The sky was tinged red. Storm clouds hung low above them, and they angrily swirled around despite the lack of a breeze. Compared to the intense red of the sky, the world around them looked less saturated. As if every other color had been sucked dry, leaving a husk in place. Sure enough, the bright yellow t-shirt Ryuji was wearing suddenly looked dull, almost grey. Akira looked down at his own clothes and noticed that they had also become a drab grey. 

Akira’s headache wasn’t getting any better.

“Where are we?” Akira still asked.

“We got off at the right stop. I know we did.” Ryuji stated, but there was some hesitancy to his words. “Just… what happened here?”

That last question hung in the air. There was no answer either teen could think of. 

Akira bit down on his rising panic and turned to Ryuji. “Let’s see if we can find anyone. We can’t be the only people here.”

Ryuji still looked uncertain, and now just a tad scared, but he nodded in agreement. “Yeah. We can’t be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* I don't know what this is. This was supposed to be a short one shot to get used to writing these characters for _another_ Persona 5 fic I want to write. And now I'm 25K deep in this AU and still going.


	2. Chapter 2

Seeing Shibuya completely deserted was terrifying for Ryuji. He couldn’t remember a time he’d seen the place without a huge crowd of people. Hell, Ryuji couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t seen another _person_ period, not including inside his bedroom of course. 

So suddenly finding Shibuya― _no, all of Tokyo_ ― completely empty was unnerving in a way that Ryuji had never experienced before. In a way that he had never thought _possible_ before. Except for in horror movies. And this was starting to feel like one. Shibuya certainly looked like it belonged in a scene in some Hell inspired horror movie. That damn red sky...

How the hell was it that only he and Akira managed to avoid whatever happened here?

Ryuji finally tore his eyes away from the skyline and back to Akira. Akira still looked like shit, and Ryuji was half convinced that his best friend was a moment’s notice away from collapsing again.

Now that Akira wasn’t preoccupied with trying to act all tough and unbothered (he was too busy looking at the _red sky for fuck’s sake_ ), Ryuji could clearly tell how sickly pale his friend was. There were bags under his eyes, with exhaustion clinging onto him like a second shadow. And Akira’s brows were clenched together; he was still in the middle of a killer migraine despite everything. 

As soon as Ryuji found out how safe they were, he was going to make Akira sit down and get some rest.

“Let’s check Central Street.” Ryuji said quickly, trying his hardest to not sound nervous. “Maybe there’s some people who are hiding in some of the shops.”

Or maybe they were the last two people in Tokyo. Ryuji really didn’t want to think about that. 

“... okay. Sounds good” Akira was slow to agree, and again Ryuji could see the pain on his friend’s face.

Actually walking through the Crossing was eerie in a way Ryuji never experienced before. Being out there in the middle of such a large opening, with the only sounds being their shoes on asphalt, it really hit Ryuji again that they were incredibly alone. He couldn’t help but overlook his shoulder every couple seconds. Just seeing Akira following him a couple steps behind him helped calm his growing nerves. Somewhat.

Above them, those red storm clouds gave off a low rumble. Just out of Ryuji’s peripherals, he barely caught the quick flash of light. They picked up their pace, both boys hoping to avoid a brewing storm.

Central Street was just as abandoned as Station Square. And it looked like the shops had been abandoned long ago, probably for years if Ryuji had to guess. Which was bullshit because Ryuji was just here _yesterday._ Shop windows were busted, with the inside looking just as dark, grey, and bleak as the rest of this Hell world. Most shops were missing their doors too, letting their interior shadows seep outside. 

Neither Ryuji or Akira wanted to inspect the insides of those shops. It looked unnaturally dark in them. 

The only sign of life in this strange version of Shibuya was the small, scattered scraps of paper and garbage lying on the ground. It fluttered about despite the distinct lack of wind. Ryuji paused mid-step and picked up one of the scraps; the writing was illegible. It didn’t even look like japanese, or any other writing system Ryuji’s seen before. He dropped it and watched it float to the ground.

“Maybe we should call someone? They’ve got to be freaking out too.” Akira spoke up, voice faint.

“Good idea.” Ryuji said, a bit embarrassed he hadn’t thought to do that earlier. He fished his phone out from his pocket. “Do you think Ann or Yusuke see this?”

Except, there was no service. And his phone kept glitching out. The screen flickered every couple of seconds, sometimes changing to complete static. It didn’t respond to the pads of his fingers. And his phone felt strangely hot in his hand, too.

“No good here, man. My phone’s busted.” Ryuji said with a defeated sigh. 

Akira let out a grumble, and for a moment, Ryuji thought that it was one of frustration. But as Ryuji looked up, he saw Akira rubbing at his temples, clearly in pain. He half stumbled, and Ryuji felt his worry grow again. Ryuji quickly caught Akira’s elbow and steadied him. And now that he was this close to his best friend, he could see how he was covered in a cold sweat.

“Okay, that’s it.” Ryuji decided. “We need to find a place for you to sit down. One of the vending machines around here is bound to have some water.”

“I’m fine, Ryuji.” Akira said, his voice still faint. And yeah, Akira sounded almost completely breathless.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.” Ryuji argued back, his panic and worry coming out sounding sharp and angry. 

He started to lead Akira towards the arcade, knowing that there was a covered stoop that would protect them in case it started to rain. Despite Akira’s vocal protests, he still allowed himself to be led. Once they were under the roof of the arcade, Ryuji sat Akira down on the steps. 

Now that Akira has given up the pretense of being a tough guy, he immediately leaned into the wall and closed his eyes. His breaths were short and shallow. Ryuji had a sinking feeling that Akira was getting worse.

Ryuji pushed that thought away and kneeled down beside Akira. He tapped Akira’s shoulder, and the other boy opened his eyes just enough to look at him. 

“I’m going to get you some water.” Ryuji said softly, trying his hardest to not show Akira how worried he was.

Just as Ryuji was about to stand up, Akira reached for his hand, clasping it weakly. There was a sudden manic look in those tired eyes. “Wait. Don’t… don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m not going far. I’m not leaving you.” Ryuji said. And he meant it.

“Promise?” Akira said, a ghost of a smile at the edge of his lips. 

Was Akira getting delusional now? Ryuji really hoped not. Instead, Ryuji took that strange demand and that half-smile as a sign that Akira wasn’t as bad off as he seemed. So Ryuji just nodded and gave Akira’s hand a quick squeeze.

“Yeah, Kira. I promise. We’ll figure out what’s happening and get out of here.” Ryuji said as he gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Akira looked content enough with that, and he let Ryuji’s hand go. He slumped back into the wall and continued breathing those shallow breaths. Ryuji only paused a second to watch his friend suffer in pain before heading back down Central Street. He really hoped the vending machines down by the movie theater were actually stocked.

Staying true to his word, Ryuji didn’t go far from the arcade. He kept within eyesight of it, and he made sure to look back there every couple of minutes. He could just barely catch sight of Akira’s prone form lying underneath the overhang. 

The vending machines were a bust, because _of course_ they were. Even as Ryuji switched from his card to loose change, nothing popped out save for empty bottles. _Who the hell stocks vending machines with empty bottles?_ Whatever horror movie shit that was going on was also giving them horrible luck. Ryuji let out a groan in frustration before giving the vending machine a swift kick. 

And then he immediately let out a series of curses under his breath. Running a hand through his hair, Ryuji tried to gather his thoughts in order.

_Okay. Calm down, Ryuji_ . _No need to panic just yet. Akira still needs us. We can’t lose our cool yet._

He just wished he brought his track water bottle with him today.

When Ryuji made his way back to the arcade, Akira was completely out. He hadn’t reacted at all when Ryuji sat down beside him. And he didn’t again as Ryuji placed his hand against his forehead, feeling how hot he was running. Akira’s complexion was still too pale, almost white in this strange lighting. And it was glistening from the sheen of sweat. Worried that Akira might be overheating in that jacket, Ryuji carefully pulled it off of him. And yep, his skin was far too clammy for Ryuji’s liking. 

And he was at a complete loss of what to do. Makoto or Ann would know, but they weren't here. The only thing Ryuji could think was that maybe he should let Akira sleep. Or maybe make their way back to Leblanc. But Ryuji was terrified of the idea that the cafe would be just as deserted as Shibuya.

So, letting Akira get some rest was the only option Ryuji was willing to take.

Ryuji got as comfortable as he could, leaning against the wall and his best friend. And he waited. He waited for almost an hour, if his busted phone was still telling him the correct time.

He waited until he saw something move from the corner of his eyes.

Ryuji jumped at the sight of it, his breath caught in his throat. After going so long with seeing no one, suddenly seeing movement was enough to give Ryuji the jitters. It hadn’t been a random piece of trash, floating in the nonexistent breeze. Ryuji felt his heartbeat quicken as his eyes darted around Central Street, searching for whoever or whatever moved.

And then it happened again, this time from the other corner of his eye. But now that he had been looking for something, he just barely managed to catch something lurking in one of the dark, shadowed corner shops. Maybe it was just a trick of the light… or maybe it was something else entirely.

It was still enough for Ryuji’s nerves to get the better of him.

Okay, maybe it was time to panic now.

Ryuji shook one of Akira’s shoulders, jostling the other teen awake. Akira grumbled and tried to swat away the offending hand, but Ryuji didn’t relent.

“Akira. Wake up. I think we need to move.” Ryuji said, his voice hushed but urgent. 

Akira still wasn’t completely coherent, but he tried to stand up nonetheless. Ryuji helped pick him up, and he slung Akira’s arm over his shoulder. That seemed to catch Akira’s attention, as that hazy look behind his glasses lessened a bit. And Ryuji could tell when Akira finally noticed his rising panic.

“Wha… what’s going on?” Akira asked, words starting to slur together.

“I don’t think we’re alone. Something’s out there.” Ryuji explained, his panic managing to seep into his words. “And I don’t want to find out if it’s friendly or not.”

That was enough of an answer for Akira, because he fell silent again. Most of Akira’s concentration was then focused on how to walk, as he kept his eyes down on the ground. Akira was clearly trying his best to keep up with Ryuji’s quick pace as they made their way back up Central Street towards Station Square. 

Ryuji didn’t know if the shadows he kept seeing out of the corner of his eyes were just from his imagination, or not. It didn’t help the rising swell of panic that pushed through his insides, making his gut churn and act up.

And then suddenly, Ryuji found out that it _wasn’t_ his imagination.

He abruptly stopped in his tracks, jostling Akira slightly in the process. Ryuji was frozen in place, unable to breath or move at all. He kept his eyes on the strange figure just before them. To the figure that was lurking in the dark corners of the station’s entrance. It was just barely out of the light that the red clouds above were giving off. Ryuji probably wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t moved.

It wasn’t human.

It was a thick mass of swirling dark smoke in the general size and shape of a human. There was a distinct torso, a head, and arms and legs. Even from this distance away from it, Ryuji could tell that it was much taller than them. Save for that, it was almost featureless. Except for where the thing’s eyes should have been. 

It was staring back at them with a pair of haunting yellow lights. Ryuji didn’t know how he knew that exactly, but he _knew._ He knew it was staring at them. That whatever this thing―this shadow monster― was, it was smart enough to know that they shouldn’t be here.

A chill ran down Ryuji’s spine, settling somewhere deep in his gut. His hands were shaking in terror as that thing continued to stare at them, impossibly waiting for them to make the first move.

Beside him, Akira was starting to groan in pain again. And then without warning, Akira flinched and grabbed his head, crying out. Akira lost his footing, and Ryuji moved to catch Akira before he crumbled out of his hold.

With that sudden movement, that uneasy standoff was broken. Before Ryuji could register what had happened, the shadowy figure lunged forward towards them. It moved with surprising speed out of the shadows and into the open space. Fear flooded through Ryuji’s system as he tried to pull them both away from the fast approaching monster. But with Akira currently going through another attack (or whatever the hell was wrong with him), they hadn’t gotten out of the way in time.

Both Ryuji and Akira fell to the ground. They were a mess of entangled limbs, sprawled on their backs. Above them, the red sky swirled around. Ryuji groaned as he felt the back of his head, feeling the sore spot where his head smacked the asphalt. His vision only started to straighten out in time to catch the shadow figure towering above them. 

It’s full attention was focused on Akira, who was still prone on the ground. Ryuji blankly watched as it reached for Akira, his mind stuttering in place for a few seconds. It took far too long for something to click back into place in Ryuji’s head, telling him that this was a Bad Thing, and he struggled with dazed limbs to protect Akira.

“Shit! Get away!” Ryuji screamed, kicking his legs up towards the thing.

It completely ignored Ryuji. Or rather, it didn’t matter. Because Ryuji’s foot just kicked _through_ the thick smoke, and the thing didn’t react to him at all. 

A smoky arm reached towards Akira’s face. And Ryuji watched as that smoke entered Akira’s mouth and nostrils. He saw the panic in Akira’s eyes as he choked, heavy hands suddenly having the strength to come up to his throat. Akira convulsed as more and more of the smoke monster entered him. Akira couldn’t even breathe. 

Somehow Akira caught sight of Ryuji, and his attention latched onto him. His eyes were unnaturally wide, glasses knocked aside and left forgotten on the ground, revealing each and every raw emotion that flowed through him. Despite the cold terror seeping into his eyes, Akira reached out to Ryuji like he was a lifeline. His hand grasped Ryuji’s, holding it with a surprising amount of force, enough to make Ryuji’s knuckles crack. Ryuji took his hand, because what else could he do in that moment?

Within seconds, the smoke monster was gone. Akira was finally able to take the deep breaths he sorely needed. Yet even then, he was gagging, spitting black bile up as his chest heaved. His voice sounded hoarse. He leaned forward, towards the ground, and propped himself up on his knees and free hand. 

Ryuji didn’t let go of Akira’s other hand. He didn’t have any intention of doing so, either.

“Akira! Are you okay?” Ryuji finally forced himself to ask.

Akira shook his head between heavy breaths. Another wet gag, another shiver that shook his shoulders. Ryuji placed his free hand against Akira’s back, and was rewarded with a harsh flinch away from the contact. Immediately Akira dropped Ryuji’s hand and started to crawl away from him.

“Dude. Wha―”

“ _Ryuji_.” 

Akira’s voice was low, deeper than it should have been. Hearing his name said that way made his heart stop for a second, his blood going cold. Ryuji’s outstretched hand between them fell against his side.

And then Akira turned, picking his head up enough to glare at Ryuji. Akira’s eyes were no longer their natural dark grey, but an ugly, bright yellow that made him look furious. The longer Ryuji stared at them, the less he recognized his best friend.

Akira spoke again, voice bellowing.

_“Run.”_

At first, Ryuji didn’t move. Because this was his best friend, and best friends don’t abandon each other. 

_“Run!”_

That was a howl that reverberated through the sky. It was loud enough to make Ryuji’s ears sting, and he quickly covered them. Ryuji felt that roar in the pit of his stomach. It was enough for him to realize that this was no longer the voice of his best friend. That something bad was happening to Akira, because of that _fucking monster_ , and Akira was fighting it off long enough to warn Ryuji. He was trying to keep Ryuji safe. 

He still hated it, but Ryuji finally found the strength to pick himself off the ground. And then he sprinted away, feeling the world’s weird, fucked up air flow through his lungs. He ran, leaving behind Akira as he broke out into another series of pained cries. Akira’s screams followed Ryuji, even as they grew faint against the rush of wind in Ryuji’s ears.

Not for the first time in his life, Ryuji was glad that he was the star of the track team. Ryuji ran without thought, blindly running through this deserted, desecrated shell of Tokyo. He ran as if his life depended on it. Hell, it probably did. 

He continued long after the rush of adrenaline left him. Long after his body started to beg for him to stop. Ryuji continued to push through the creeping exhaustion and the pain from overworked muscles. He ignored all the usual signs his body gave him when he pushed past his limit.

Ryuji only stopped running once his ears started to ring, when he got the early signs of tunnel vision. The lightheadedness was too much, and Ryuji stumbled to a stop on a street he couldn’t recognize. He leaned against a wall and slid down to the ground, feeling sweat drip down his back. He tried to get as much oxygen into him to stave off fainting. 

Forcing his eyes to remain open, Ryuji took in his surroundings. And yep, he was definitely not in Shibuya. It had to be one of the surrounding neighborhoods he’d never been to before. 

Once Ryuji’s heart felt like it wasn’t going to explode, he came to a sudden realization.

What the hell was he going to do now?

There was only one thing Ryuji was certain of: he couldn’t stay here. 

Who knew how many of those shadow things were lurking in the dark corners of Tokyo. Probably, _definitely_ , more than one. And Ryuji didn’t want to meet the same fate as Akira.

Tears started to prickle in his eyes, threatening to fall. His body was starting to shake again, yet this time it wasn’t from fear or overexertion. It was from shock as Ryuji started to fully realize what had just happened.

Was Akira dead? Did he just abandon Akira to die alone?

What the hell did that thing do to him?

“Akira… I’m so sorry…”

What was he going to say to the others? To Boss? Shit, he hadn’t even met Akira’s parents. How was he going to tell them?

No, Ryuji shook those thoughts from his mind, even as he continued to cry. He had to wait to think about that later. He had to keep his mind clear. He couldn’t stay here. He had to keep moving. 

Ryuji picked himself up, already feeling the strain in his leg muscles. His body was already starting to stiffen up, and Ryuji knew that he’d ache like hell for the rest of the day. But that really wasn’t important right now. He had to find someplace safe.

Ryuji hadn’t made it that far down the street when he heard fast footsteps approaching. They were coming from where he had just been. Ryuji only had enough time to register his rising panic before something tackled him from behind. Something _very solid_.

And then he was pinned against a wall. Arms were pressing into him, strong and taught, keeping him from moving. Once his vision stopped swimming from the sudden shift, his eyes settled on the figure before him.

It was Akira.

But it was also so obviously _not_.

It wore Akira’s face, but that was the only thing recognizable about it. For one thing, it wasn’t wearing the same clothes Akira had been wearing earlier today. Gone was Akira’s light, short sleeved jacket and jeans. Instead, it wore strange clothing; a collared, black leather coat and dark underclothes underneath that. It was completely covered from the neck down. Even its hands were covered in black gloves. 

Pointed, claw-like gloves that, under closer inspection, Ryuji wasn’t sure if they actually _were_ gloves. 

The sharp points dug into Ryuji’s shirt, and he could feel the pinpricks against his skin. There was just enough pressure to not break the skin, but enough to keep Ryuji from struggling against the hold.

It’s mouth was parted as it let out long heavy breaths, revealing the barest hints of sharp pointed teeth. It’s eyes were that same glowing yellow Ryuji saw earlier, which were _staring straight at him_ , unblinking. And there was something about them, either the unnatural color or the subtle shine, but Ryuji just couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was the same look big cats had when stalking their prey.

Shit, did that make Ryuji the prey in this scenario?

Was this the smoke monster thing?

_What the fuck?_

It didn’t stop staring at him. Ryuji could do nothing but watch as this thing that looked like Akira gave him a long, thorough inspection that suspiciously felt like a weird once-over. And then its mouth quirked into a smirk that shouldn't have been familiar, but _was_.

“Hey, Ryuji.”

It was very unsettling hearing Akira’s voice, completely unchanged. As if nothing had happened to him at all.

After a long hesitation, Ryuji cleared his throat and replied. “Um… hey…?”

It was silent for a moment, deep in thought. And then it leaned in closer to Ryuji’s face. Far closer than Ryuji would have liked, right into his personal space. Close enough to feel its hot breath against his skin. Ryuji craned his neck as far away as he could. And still it got even closer.

Ryuji’s pulse soared as he panicked. Oh god, was this thing gonna bite him? Rip his throat to shreds and―

“Don’t look so freaked out.” It suddenly said, a subtle hint of amusement in its voice. It pulled back enough for Ryuji to catch it _smiling_ at him. “What’s gotten into you? Everything’s fine.”

Ryuji couldn’t believe that; it was such an obvious lie. Before realizing that he should probably watch what he says, Ryuji spat out. “What the hell did you do to Kira?!”

It frowned, a perfect replica of how Akira frowned when confused. “I’m perfectly fine. You’re the one freaking out here.”

_What?_

It either didn’t notice Ryuji’s lack of a response, or didn’t care, because it continued. It spoke offhandedly, as if it was discussing something as mundane as the change in weather. “Although it’s pretty understandable why you ran. That probably looked a bit… unpleasant. But I’m fine now. See?”

Ryuji finally found his voice. “You’re not Akira.”

“Yes, I _am_.” It replied, this time that frown turning to one of annoyance. Akira always hated repeating himself. 

( _This wasn’t Akira.)_

“No, you’re definitely not.” Ryuji insisted through clenched teeth. 

Frustration was quickly replacing Ryuji’s earlier panic, and Ryuji couldn’t stop himself from trying to shove this _thing_ wearing Akira’s body off of him. Key word: tried. Because even with as much strength that he could muster, it wouldn’t budge, never mind bother to let him go. When actions wouldn’t move it, Ryuji tried a different tactic.

“Look, I know my best friend. And you ain’t him!” Ryuji snapped angrily. He tried his hardest to grip its clawed hands, still trying to pry them off of him, despite knowing it was a wasted effort. He glared at it as he continued. “You’re not gonna fool me. I’m not _that_ stupid!”

“Why won’t you believe me?” It was suddenly quiet. 

It was giving Ryuji an odd look. It’s head was tilted slightly in the same manner that Akira did whenever he was deep in thought, too focused on what was going on his head to notice what was happening around him. It was incredibly jarring to see it do that, something that was so Akira.

But it wasn’t Akira. It couldn’t be. Not with those yellow eyes and pointed teeth and claws for hands.

“I _am_ Akira.” It stated forcefully. A new expression bloomed on its face. One that Ryuji recognized: hurt.

Good. Maybe then it’ll stop trying to lie to his face.

“You can’t be, because I saw you! The _real_ you. You’re that weird fucking smoke monster!”

Strangely enough, it didn’t argue with him about that. Instead, it leaned forward again, closer to Ryuji. Ryuji could see all of it’s raw emotions as it passed over its face in a flurry. From frustration to that strange hurt look, and a hint of rising anger. Its clawed hands tightened around Ryuji’s shoulders as it spoke, and Ryuji was not-so-subtly reminded of his precarious situation. 

“It’s _my turn_ to have control! _I deserve a chance!_ ” It was yelling, voice raw with emotion.

It suddenly dawned on Ryuji that, for his best chance of survival, it might be a good idea to play along with this thing’s delusions.

“Okay, okay. You’re Akira.” Ryuji forced himself to say slowly, hoping that this thing would calm down.

He kept a careful eye on the being in front of him, looking for any sign that this was actually a horrible idea, or any other indications that he was still in danger. As he did, that manic look in its yellow eyes dimmed. And then the thing’s tight hold on him lessened, the pressure of its claws digging into his skin completely disappearing. Ryuji allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief. 

Ryuji continued, still keeping his voice calm as he spoke. “You’re Akira. And I would really appreciate it if my best friend _Akira_ would let me go now.”

For a long moment it didn’t do anything, except stare at Ryuji suspiciously. It’s hold didn’t tighten, nor did it lessen. Ryuji was enraptured by its yellow gaze, frozen in place as he waited for its response. And then finally, _finally_ , the tension held in its shoulders was dropped, and Ryuji allowed himself to relax in the moment.

“Fine. I’ll let you go, but on one condition.” It said with the beginnings of a smirk.

Damn it. Ryuji should have expected something like this. “Okay. What’s your condi―”

Ryuji couldn’t finish his question, because the thing was suddenly pulling him into a kiss. Those same hands that had pinned him into place were suddenly wrapped around him. One hand was on his lower back pulling him closer, the other by his head, cupping him tenderly with fingers just barely grazing the skin of his cheek. Ryuji could feel Akira’s hair tickle his forehead, and the warm heat of its breaths. 

It didn’t last long. Just long enough to leave a lasting impression of how Akira’s lips felt against his own. Enough to feel the heat of Akira’s body, the _shape_ of Akira’s body, against his in a way Ryuji never thought of. It was a quick flash of intimacy. And then the embrace was broken.

It pulled away from Ryuji, taking some sorely needed steps backward. It put its hands in its pockets as it watched and waited for Ryuji to recover.

Meanwhile, Ryuji was busy short-circuiting.

“Um. Okay.” Ryuji stuttered. “Quick question: why?”

It was silent for a moment. Long enough for Ryuji to think that it wouldn’t answer him. And then, it finally did, long after the silence between them had turned awkward.

“ _He_ never had the courage to do that. I do.” It said, as if that was any form of an explanation. 

Of course that confused Ryuji even more. Because what the hell did that even mean? Ryuji couldn’t stop himself from bringing the pads of his fingers up to his lips, as if they would know what was going on. His lips were still tingling from the phantom touch of Akira’s lips. 

Despite the shock of it, it hadn’t been unpleasant. You know, except for the fact that a monster had kissed him.

_Holy shit. Akira was my first kiss._ The thought came unbidden somewhere from the depths of Ryuji’s mind. A blush started to creep into his cheeks. _I just kissed my best friend_ . _Well, a monster inside my best friend. But still…_

All the while, Ryuji could feel it watching his every movement. Ryuji turned to the side in an attempt to hide his creeping embarrassment. Yet even in his peripherals, he could see the thing give him a smug look. God, what was this thing’s deal with him?

And just as suddenly, the thing’s head whipped around, to a different direction. It looked up towards the roofs of the surrounding buildings, up to that still unnerving red sky. Its relaxed pose instantly stiffened up, shifting its stance as if expecting a fight. The sudden change spooked Ryuji; he didn’t know if it would attack him again. But it didn’t look at him. Ryuji kept quiet, trying to listen for whatever had spooked it.

And then it turned back to him. It spoke up, tone urgent. “We need to keep moving.” 

“Again, why?” Also, why would Ryuji go anywhere with it? Why would it expect him to? 

“It’s not safe to stay in one place for too long. That’s how I found you before.” It explained. It paused for a moment, deep in thought. “It’s best if we find our way home.”

“Wait. You know the way home?” Any hesitancy Ryuji had been feeling about following this thing instantly dwindled. 

It nodded. “Of course. It should still be open if we hurry.” 

Before Ryuji could respond, it reached out towards him. It grasped his hand, weaving their fingers together and holding tight, squeezing once. Ryuji jumped a little from the sudden contact, but his reaction went unnoticed. The other being’s attention seemed to be focused on their surroundings, as it continued to glance around.

Okay. So, they were holding hands. Holding hands with a monster was a thing that was happening. A thing Ryuji was doing right now. How was this his life?

And then it started to walk back towards Shibuya, gently tugging Ryuji along. Ryuji kept silent, too dazed and confused about this weird turn of events to say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm pretty happy with how much I've got pre-written, and I'm constantly editing as I go along. So I'm going to try to update this weekly on Fridays/Saturdays if I'm able to keep up with the writing schedule I have. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay, we’re here. So now what?” 

The walk back to Station Square had been quick. Which Ryuji was kind of thankful for, because the walk had also been in complete silence. Which, yeah, usually walking places with Akira tended to be quiet, with maybe some small talk on Ryuji’s part. But that was because Akira was a naturally quiet person. And if it had been Akira walking with him, Ryuji wouldn’t have minded it at all.

But this thing was _not_ Akira, no matter how many times it tried to convince him otherwise. And while this thing was just as quiet as Akira, Akira never _held his hand before_.

It wasn’t letting go of him even now, right as they stood above the steps of Station Square.

The thing stood and stared down the stairwell. Just like everywhere else in this hellish world, the underground walkway was bathed in complete darkness as soon as it was outside of the red tinted sunlight. It was ensnared in pitch black shadows; there was an almost physicality to it, like Ryuji could reach out and cup it in his hands. 

Ryuji couldn’t make out anything down there. Ryuji grew nervous the longer he looked at it. So instead, Ryuji turned his attention onto Aki― Not Akira. 

Ryuji kept his gaze on its yellow eyes, which stared down into that same nerve wracking darkness.

“We need to head back down into the subway. The exit should still be there.” It said plainly. “After we find it, it shouldn’t take us long to return to your world.”

It started to walk forward, towards the steps. But it stopped when it noticed Ryuji’s hesitance. 

Ryuji hadn’t moved because, well, he was terrified to go down there in all that darkness. If he went down there, then it’d be the quickest way to get hopelessly lost. Or he’d just miss a step, fall down those stairs, and break his neck. But that wasn’t the most pressing thought for Ryuji at the moment; something about what the thing just said startled him.

“Wait. You’re coming back with me?”

It gave him a confused glance. “Of course. Why would I want to stay here?”

“But what about Akira?”

“You’re getting confused again. I just said I was coming back with you.”

Ryuji sighed, deciding to drop it. The last thing he needed was to piss this thing off again. So he quickly changed the subject, his next remark coming out sounding sarcastic. “Well, I hope you can see in the dark, because I can’t.”

It looked at him in surprise, as if he hadn’t been expecting that. That reaction made Ryuji nervous, and he fidgeted in place. Wait. Could it actually actually see in the dark? Maybe those yellow eyes did more than just look creepy. 

It was quiet for a moment. And then it brought its free hand up in front of them and snapped its fingers. 

And then that hand was cupping a ball of blue fire.

Ryuji jumped back as far as he could. He hadn’t been expecting that sudden splash of color in this dull world. And he certainly hadn’t been expecting the flash of heat that the blue flame produced. Ryuji remained tense, eying that flame warily.

Okay. Magic. Sure, why not? Nothing else made sense here.

It noticed Ryuji’s unease and gave his hand another tight squeeze. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.” 

Ryuji chose not to respond to that. Thankfully, it took his silence as the end of the conversation.

It took the first step down into the underground. Ryuji reluctantly followed. And surprisingly, the darkness parted for them. It left a sizable bubble of light around the flame, keeping the darkness at bay. The area was large enough for the two of them to stay safely within the light. Even if Ryuji had to keep closer than he would have liked.

And then they were down the stairs. Ryuji couldn’t help but look back up them, only to see that there was nothing but darkness. The light from outside couldn’t penetrate it. 

_Okay, I guess this is the point of no return, then._

They walked through the underground tunnels. It, just like the world above, was just a strange mirror version of the station that Ryuji knew. They were trashed and desecrated too, with graffiti marking the walls in writing (scribbles?) that Ryuji couldn’t understand. Thick, dark red cables hung above their heads, spreading and coating the ceiling like overgrown ivy, with a few stray wires dangling in their faces.

It made Ryuji nervous to be in such a dark, cramped space. He really hoped that this place wouldn’t collapse right on top of them.

They traveled far longer than Ryuji thought they would. Station Square was huge, but he knew it wasn’t _this_ big. The more he thought, the more he paid attention to where they were going. And Ryuji quickly noticed that he didn’t recognize any of the twists and turns this thing was leading him down. This place was a god damn maze; there was no way he could remember the path they took if he wanted to go back.

What if this had been it’s plan the entire time?

His blood ran cold at that intrusive thought. Ryuji paused mid-step, catching the other being’s attention when he didn’t react to its tentative tugs.

_Fuck._

What if this place was this monster’s lair? This was where they had first seen it, before it got Akira. And Ryuji had been stupid enough to follow it right back into its trap.

“Ryuji?” It spoke up, voice soft but somehow incredibly loud in Ryuji’s mind. 

It paused, waiting for his response. But Ryuji was too busy panicking as more imaginative thoughts of his demise bounced around his head. He saw what it did to Akira. What would it do to him?

He could barely hear it as it continued. He didn’t notice the underlying urgency in its words. “Ryuji, we need to keep moving. Or something else will find us.”

It tugged at his arm again, this time with a bit more strength. And yet Ryuji refused to move. It’s grip tightened in response. The only thing Ryuji could feel was the sharp claws that prodded and scraped the skin around his knuckles.

(The only thing Ryuji could imagine was those same claws wrapped around his throat. Those eyes staring down at him with malicious intent.)

Ryuji let out a terrified gasp and tried to yank his hand free. And somehow he managed it, earning him a few large scratch marks against the back of his hand. Finally free, Ryuji stepped back, as far as he could while still within the safety of the light. His body was shaking, begging him to run.

Ryuji couldn’t recognize the look it was giving him. It opened its mouth to say something, but it never had the chance.

Off in the distance, there was the clattering of chains.

And just as suddenly, its attention had shifted away from Ryuji. It turned his back on him. Akira’s other hand bursted into blue flame, and Ryuji watched as both flames flared up and started to trail up its arms, dancing across the surface of its black coat. The amount of light surrounding them was doubled, and Ryuji could see further down the corridor. And Ryuji took that opportunity to get even further away.

But Ryuji kept his eyes trained on it. Its body was tense and in the same fighting stance that he had seen earlier. Its head swiveled around, searching the darkness for something that Ryuji would never be able to see. 

There was a rush of wind in his face, and Ryuji blinked his eyes. There was the sound of something unfurling, and he felt something big knock against him with enough force to almost knock him down. Ryuji opened his eyes, only to be shocked at the sight of a pair of giant, jetblack wings extending out from Akira’s back. The feathers were puffing up, slowly rising as Akira’s body tensed.

The sound of chains was drawing closer. Ryuji got a really bad feeling about this.

“ _Shit_.” It said under its breath, sharp with anger. 

It glanced over their wings and back towards Ryuji. Its yellow eyes were glaring at him, giving off their own light. And that’s when Ryuji noticed that the wings hadn’t been the only thing that had drastically changed.

Its face was now gaunt. Teeth sharper, longer. Like fangs. And _oh fuck, were those horns?!_

“Ryuji! Run!”

The sensible part of Ryuji’s brain would have demanded to know where to. But unfortunately, that part of Ryuji’s brain wasn’t working at the moment. Instead, pure instincts took over. Ryuji turned and ran, right into the same darkness that he had been terrified of only minutes ago. That was probably not the smartest idea, but anywhere was better than _there_ at the moment.

Of course, the first thing Ryuji did was run _directly into a wall_. Pain bloomed over his face, his nose in particular, and in his right shoulder. He staggered for a second, biting down on the cry of pain that bubbled within him. Instead, Ryuji shook the injury out and then started running again, this time extending his hands out to help guide him.

All the while, he could hear animalistic screams of rage behind him.

* * *

Ryuji awoke with a start, jumping in his seat. 

What had woken him was the abrupt and blaring screech of an inbound train as it rushed past the platform. It had been the change in air pressure, the mad rush of displaced air that hissed in his ears, and the roar of the train’s motor. It spooked Ryuji, and for a moment he panicked at the sudden shift of perspective. Waking up somewhere he wasn’t expecting was very alarming.

Ryuji only calmed down when he noticed the odd looks he was garnering from those around him. And that was when he realized where he was. 

He was in the underground subway system, under Shibuya if he was remembering clearly. There were crowds of people bustling about. Most of whom were now choosing to ignore Ryuji as he stumbled on his feat, looking like a crazed fool. They were too busy with their own lives, either rushing to catch their transfers before the train left, or leaving for the city above them. Just another normal day in sunny Tokyo.

Wait, how had he fallen asleep here? Hadn’t he been… 

…he had been in that weird mirror-world of Shibuya. 

As soon as Ryuji remembered that, he broke out of his stupor.

“How the hell..?”

Ryuji’s memory was frustratingly hazy. He couldn’t quite remember _how_ he managed to escape that place. He could remember the monster inside Akira, and how he had _stupidly_ decided to follow it down into the station. And then panicking when he thought that it was going to kill him. But after that… nothing but an overwhelming sense of terror and dread. 

But the shock of suddenly not being there without an explanation made him nervous. He had to see it to believe it. 

So Ryuji ran through the station, taking the stairs two steps at a time. In his mad rush, he managed to shove into more than a couple people, which earned him rude remarks. But Ryuji didn’t care at that moment. All Ryuji could care about was whether the sky above would be its normal blue hue.

The sun caught Ryuji’s eyes as he stepped outside. It was blinding. As Ryuji brought a hand up to shield his face, he felt his throat close up from suspense. It felt like forever as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the light. And as the cloudless blue sky filtered through the sunlight, Ryuji let out one last sigh of relief.

“I’m actually back.” Ryuji muttered to himself. “I actually did it.”

The relief he was feeling was almost overwhelming. He was back. He was safe. He wasn’t dead.

That feeling was short-lived, however, when Ryuji’s thoughts turned to Akira. Akira, who was still trapped there, and possessed by that monster… 

…If that had actually been real.

Maybe it had all been a strange dream?

It was a spark of ill-fated hope that was instantly crushed when Ryuji looked at his hand. And there they were, the deep scratch marks he had received down in that world’s version of Station Square. It had already scabbed over, but the skin round it was still red and angry. Just to make sure, Ryuji brought his hand up to his nose, and yeah, it was sore as hell. Hopefully it wasn’t broken.

So all of that had been real. And that really did mean that Akira was… 

_Fuck_.

Ryuji knew it was pointless, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling his phone out. He’ll cling to any amount of hope he could.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Ryuji: Akira, where are you?
> 
> Ryuji: Please tell me you can see this.
> 
> Ryuji: I don’t know where you are, or if you’re okay, but just message me when you can.
> 
> Ryuji: I really need you to tell me that this wasn’t real.

None of his messages could be delivered. It just resulted in an error message, and the app asking him if he’d like to retry. Ryuji could only stare at his phone blankly. And then he pocketed it, limbs feeling like they were coated in lead. Heavy and useless.

What the hell was he going to do now?

* * *

Ryuji only broke out of his daze when he heard Leblanc’s door chime open. The sound of bells crashed him back to reality.

Oh.

So this is where his feet decided to take him.

Ryuji took a moment to look back outside. It was still light out, but he could tell that it was late in the afternoon from the long shadows that swept through the back alley. Had he walked here? He couldn’t remember getting on a train.

Ryuji stood numbly in the door, looking at nothing in particular. Ryuji could see Sojiro back behind the counter; the man hadn’t even turned to see who had entered. But when the heat of the day was slowly creeping into the air conditioned cafe, Sojiro eventually looked up. Only briefly, however, just enough to see that it was Ryuji. Not long enough to see Ryuji’s shell shocked expression. Or to see that Ryuji had returned alone.

“Huh. I didn’t think I’d see you guys back for another couple hours.” Sojiro said as he returned to his work. “Did you two get something to eat while you were out? Because I’m not giving you another free meal today.”

The thought of eating right now made Ryuji’s stomach churn in disgust.

“Hey. Don’t stand right in the doorway. Come sit down.”

Ryuji did as he was ordered. He took one of the open booths. The same one he had taken earlier today. God, had it really only been this morning that they had breakfast together? That felt like forever ago.

Ryuji sat quietly, eyes still staring into nothing. Perhaps it was because Ryuji was being uncharacteristically quiet, but Sojiro soon noticed that there was one person missing. Sojiro looked up from his work again, this time focusing on both Ryuji and the door. A frown had formed.

“Huh… Ryuji, where’s Akira?” Sojiro finally asked.

He couldn’t look Sojiro in the eye as that question hung in the air. It took a moment for Ryuji’s mouth to cooperate, but even then his words died in his throat. All Ryuji had accomplished was just stuttering, silent mouth shapes. Which turned into trembles as Ryuji was hit with another wave of crushing sadness. 

His obvious distress snapped something in Sojiro. 

Ryuji’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything, so he hadn't seen the older man rush around the counter. But he did hear the sound of glass shattering on the ground. He was aware that Sojiro was suddenly in front of him, kneeling on the ground to be eye level. His hands were on Ryuji’s shoulders, gripping with too much force. 

Ryuji could imagine the rising panic in Sojiro’s eyes. How scared the man was from his inability to answer him.

“Ryuji. Where’s Akira?” Sojiro asked again, but this time with more force. With more urgency. There was a hand on Ryuji’s head, and Ryuji flinched as Sojiro faintly touched his bruised nose, and then the swelling bump on the back of his head. “What happened? Where did you get these injuries?”

“I―”

“Is Akira hurt?!” Sojiro’s voice was rising. He sounded almost angry. “Damn it Ryuji, _where is he?!_ ”

Getting yelled at was the last straw. Ryuji broke down. He let out a loud, bubbling sob that stopped Sojiro halfway through his next shout. Ryuji’s body shook uncontrollably, and he desired nothing more than to collapse and forget about this horrible day. Tears and snot dribbled down his face, despite his best efforts to wipe it away with the back of his hands.

“Shit.” Sojiro said under his breath. He tried another tactic, keeping his voice calm. “Ryuji I need you to focus. Calm down and please try to answer some questions.”

Ryuji didn’t know if he could do that, but he would try at least. So he nodded his head, not trusting his voice.

“Okay. I need to know if Akira is safe. Do you know if he’s safe?” Sojiro said slowly, clearly trying to keep his voice calm and even as to not put Ryuji in further distress.

No. He wasn’t safe. Ryuji shook his head. 

That wasn’t the answer Sojiro had wanted, and his voice shook with his next question. “Do you know where he is?”

No. Not at all. Wherever that fucked up world was, it wasn’t _here_. And Akira was still trapped there. Another shake of his head. Another involuntary half-sob.

“Where was the last place you saw him?” Sojiro continued.

“… Shibuya…” That was all Ryuji could say, because anything else Sojiro wouldn’t believe.

That seemed to be all Sojiro wanted out of him, because he promptly got to his feet and flipped the store’s sign to _Closed_. Sojiro had his cellphone out soon after, and Ryuji could barely hear the man’s soft mutterings as the guy paced from one end of Leblanc to the other.

Ryuji started to zone out; he could just barely pay attention to Sojiro’s phone call.

“Yes, I’d like to report a missing person…” Sojiro said, voice beginning to waver again. “His name is Kurusu Akira. He’s sixteen, last seen in Shibuya… 

“... I’ve got temporary custody over him. His parents are overseas right now…

“... No, I saw him this morning, but I don’t know how long it's been. But I have reason to believe he’s in danger...

“... Yeah, I’ve got his friend here, but he’s shaken up. I can barely get anything out of him. I’m going to take him to―what? No, they’re not the kind of kids that would do drugs…

“... Alright, keep me updated. I’ll get in contact with his parents.”

There was a hand on his shoulder. Ryuji flinched from the touch, and he only relaxed when he saw that it was still Sojiro. Sojiro looked exhausted, and Ryuji knew that somber look was because of him. 

“I’ve contacted the police.” Sojiro started, voice grim. He stopped to send a text message on his phone, and then he pocketed it. “They’re already looking for him. Now let's get you to a clinic.”

“I’m sorry.” Ryuji whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry if I made you think it was.” Sojiro said. “Now stand up. The clinic isn’t that far.”

It was, in fact, not that long of a walk at all. The clinic was not even five minutes away from Leblanc. The punk looking doctor lady that ran it seemed to be expecting them. She took one look at Sojiro and Ryuji and ushered them both into the exam room. 

She didn’t speak at all, only shared a few worried glances with Sojiro. And she was very efficient in examining Ryuji’s wounds and bandaging them up. And while her tone came out cross and scolding, Ryuji could tell she was worried. He didn’t know why at first, because with all things considered, he wasn’t even that injured. 

That is, until she said, “Let me know as soon as they find him.”

Sojiro replied. “Will do.”

With that, Sojiro left, leaving Ryuji with the punk doctor. She finished tending to his various injuries, and then gave him a small lecture about how to care for said various injuries. When she noticed that Ryuji was having trouble paying attention, she wrote down a list and a set of instructions instead.

By the time the doctor led him out of the exam room, it was growing dark outside. Sojiro was sitting in a chair in the waiting room, which surprised Ryuji. He fully expected him to head home now that Ryuji was taken care of. And Ryuji was about to ask why Sojiro was still there, but the question was caught in his throat when he saw Sojiro talking on his phone.

Sojiro looked up at them, eyes wide. 

“They found him.”

* * *

Akira had been found unconscious, lying on the ground in Station Square. His injuries were minimal, just as severe as Ryuji’s own various bumps, bruises, and scratches. Nothing had been stolen from him; his wallet and phone were still in his pockets. 

Akira was being held in a university hospital not too far from where they found him.

And Akira would not wake up. 

It was that last fact that terrified Futaba. She had thought that getting that unexpected text from Sojiro had been the scariest thing to happen today. The one that told her that Akira had gone missing, and got hurt, and they didn’t know _how,_ and now he’s in _a coma and won’t wake up,_ and―

Careful, Futaba. Calm down, Futaba. Take deep, slow breaths. Freaking out now wasn’t going to help Akira get better.

He was okay, and Futaba needed to remind herself that before she spiraled down another panic attack. She could see he was okay right now with her own eyes.

He was asleep, because duh, _coma_ , but at least he didn’t look too bothered. It just looked like Akira was taking a nap… if Futaba just chose to ignore the sterile white walls, the horrible fluorescent lighting, and the crisp linen sheets that covered him. But even then, Futaba couldn’t ignore the incessant beeps coming from the heart monitor they had Akira hooked up to.

The dark bruises that covered Akira’s face and neck stood out against all this white. And yet Futaba couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

This brought up some bad memories… memories she had never wanted to relive. 

Futaba hadn’t left his side since they allowed her and Sojiro to enter his room. Even now, after it had long gotten dark out, she refused to leave. Hell, Futaba was determined to stay until Akira woke up, even if that meant sleeping in these horribly uncomfortable hospital chairs that they had been provided.

Futaba was in one of those chairs now, legs tucked into her chest as she wrapped her arms around them. Futaba’s back was aching in this position, but she ignored it. Instead, she brought out her phone and sent another update into the group chat.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Futaba: Extended visiting hours are almost over. No changes.
> 
> Futaba: I’m gonna try to convince Sojiro to let me stay the night.
> 
> Futaba: He probably won’t let me, but it’s worth a shot.
> 
> Ann: Hey, if you need someone to stay with you overnight, or just to drop off of something you need, just let me know. I’m only one train stop away.
> 
> Futaba: The nurses probably won’t let you. 
> 
> Futaba: It was a huge hassle convincing them to let us stay after normal visiting hours. Just because we’re not blood related.
> 
> Makoto: It’s probably for the best anyway. Best not to anger the hospital staff. Go home, Futaba. Akira will still be there tomorrow morning.
> 
> Futaba: I’m not leaving him! What if he wakes up without me here?!
> 
> Makoto: That wasn’t what I meant. 
> 
> Makoto: Akira is safest where he is, and he’s getting the care he needs. He wouldn’t like it if you were worrying yourself sick, would he?
> 
> Futaba: No he wouldn’t.
> 
> Haru: Makoto’s right. Take care of yourself first, Futaba. So that when Akira does wake up, you can properly be there for him. 
> 
> Yusuke: And you don’t have to do that alone. 
> 
> Ann: Yeah. Yusuke’s right.
> 
> Ann: As soon as visiting hours open tomorrow, I’ll be there right with you.
> 
> Yusuke: As will I. 
> 
> Makoto: Sis and I will be returning the day after tomorrow. Hopefully Akira will be awake by then, but if not, I will too.
> 
> Haru: I’ll be here if you need someone to talk to. Even feel free to call me if you need to talk.
> 
> Haru: I’m sorry that that’s all I can offer at the moment.
> 
> Futaba: Thanks Haru. I’ll make sure to keep you updated. All of you.
> 
> Yusuke: By the way, how is Ryuji doing? 
> 
> Yusuke: He hasn’t responded to any of my messages since you told us about Akira.
> 
> Futaba: He’s still here too. Right outside the room. I can hear some police officers asking him some last minute questions.
> 
> Haru: Did he tell you what happened? 
> 
> Futaba: No. I haven’t had the chance to ask him yet. 
> 
> Futaba: But from what Sojiro told me, Ryuji doesn’t know or he’s having trouble saying it.
> 
> Makoto: Don’t be too hard on him. Whatever those two went through, it was probably very traumatic. He’ll tell us soon enough, when he’s ready.
> 
> Yusuke: Hopefully that will be sooner than later.

Futaba was pulled out of the chat when she heard the door to Akira’s room open. She was expecting it to be Sojiro, but was surprised to find Ryuji. He looked exhausted and spent; just standing there in the open doorway seemed to be a challenge for him. It looked like he hadn’t noticed her yet, as he was just staring at Akira. And Futaba didn’t know if Ryuji looked relieved at seeing Akira’s unconscious form, or nervous.

Futaba shifted in her seat, and Ryuji’s eyes caught the motion. He grimaced as he gave her a half-hearted wave. He moved as if to take the open seat next to her, closing the door in the process, but then thought better of it and stood in place. Now Futaba could tell that he was nervous, particularly about her.

And he should be.

She was scared for Akira. She didn’t know what was wrong with him. She couldn’t fix him. Futaba was an impatient person; not knowing made her even more scared, and not being able to do anything about it made her angry. And the only person who could possibly know was Ryuji. She just wanted to know what had happened today.

So she promptly asked him. Makoto and her common sense be damned.

“Ryuji. What the hell happened today?” 

At least it looked like he had expected her to interrogate him. Good. 

Ryuji let out a flat sigh. “It’s― it’s difficult to explain. And it’s not like you’d believe me.”

“Try me.” Futaba said, her anger and frustration starting to rise. “I don’t need your excuses to shield me from the truth. I need to know.”

“Futaba, it’s not that. It’s―”

“Akira’s not just your best friend, you know.” Futaba snapped. “How would you like it if you were me right now?!”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t believe me either!”

They both stopped shouting at that moment, suddenly aware of how loud they were getting. Both were afraid that one of the adults nearby would hear them and throw them out for disturbing other patients this late at night. And both were just a bit shocked at what Ryuji just said.

They waited, listening for any hurried steps towards their door. Futaba expected Sojiro to pop his head in the room at any moment, angry and ready to scold them. Ready to tell her it was time to leave Akira. 

Seconds passed in bitter silence. Once it was clear that no one was going to check up on them, Ryuji let out an aggravated sigh. It looked like Ryuji had instantly regretted saying that, because he scowled before throwing his hands up in defeat, running them through his hair roughly. He walked over to the foot of Akira’s cot and just stared at him. Head hung low, shoulders hunched.

Futaba spoke up again. This time, she tried a different tactic.

“Why? What makes it so unbelievable that you refuse to tell me?” Futaba asked, trying her hardest to keep her voice calm. All she wanted to do was continue to shout at him, continue to demand answers. 

Ryuji gave her a conflicted look; he was still trying to decide if he should tell her. He quickly glanced back at Akira’s unconscious form, and something akin to regret fluttered on his face before he turned back to Futaba.

“We went… somewhere.” Ryuji started. “Somewhere not in Shibuya. I don’t think it was even Tokyo.”

“What, like Yokohama?” 

“No. I mean, I don’t think we were on _earth_.” Ryuji tried to explain, his voice starting to shake a little. “It was some other world, or some shit. Like a mirror version of ours. It― it looked like Shibuya, but the sky was red and there was no one else there. It was just me and Akira.

“And Akira wasn’t feeling good. And there was this monster, and it… _entered_ Akira. It was all smoke and Akira breathed it in, and then he _changed_ ―”

Ryuji’s breathing was unsteady. It was shallow and far too fast, and Futaba recognized it as the early signs of a panic attack. Fortunately, Ryuji caught it as well and started to take deep, calming breaths. He only spoke up again once he was back in control. Even still, his hands were shaking by his sides.

“And after that, Akira was acting weird, because he was being controlled by whatever _the fuck_ that thing was.” Ryuji said. His next words were spoken so low they were almost a whisper. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

Futaba was quiet as she thought that over.

“…You’re telling me that Akira was possessed by some kind of monster? Like a demon?” Futaba said slowly.

“Yes. A demon. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You’re right. I don’t believe you.” Futaba said, tone sharp. She refused to look at him. “Maybe I shouldn’t have even asked.”

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have.” Ryuji said, voice just as sharp. Just as bitter.

He turned to leave. Which was good, because that meant that Futaba didn’t have to ask him to. But still Ryuji paused, one hand on the doorknob. He turned to look at Akira one last time. That nervous look of his was back. 

“Just… tell me if Akira’s eyes are yellow when he wakes up. Please?”

“You can check yourself.” Futaba said, still refusing to look at him. “The others are planning to visit tomorrow. You should too.”

It was an olive branch. One that Futaba didn’t think Ryuji deserved. Not after all that bullshit about another world and demons. But Akira wouldn’t want them fighting in the first place.

“... Thanks. I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this got a little bit more angsty than what I had planned when I first wrote this chapter. I am completely incapable of not writing angst. Oops. But I do think that it with strengthen the story as a whole. It's not gonna be completely angsty, I promise there will be fluff. Eventually. I promise.
> 
> Also! As much as this fic is going to be focused on Akira and Ryuji, I am also super invested in the friendship/sibling bond that Akira and Futaba have together. So Futaba will be the Third Major Character in this story. Expect more from her in later chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

Akira hadn’t regained consciousness over the night.

Sojiro had told Futaba not to get her hopes up. Most comatose patients don’t tend to wake up for a couple weeks, and that was if they were lucky. If they weren’t lucky, it could be months. Or never.

Sojiro told her this, but Futaba wanted to believe that maybe Akira would be one of the lucky ones. He always seemed to be made of luck. 

Futaba had stubbornly hoped, and imagined, that Akira would be up and ready to leave by the time she arrived at the hospital next morning. It would have been a happy surprise, and she wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Futaba had gotten her hopes up, and now she was dealing with the crushing wave of disappointment.

It looked like Akira hadn’t moved at all during the night. He was as still as a statue, with the slow rise and fall of his chest doing nothing to break the illusion. Even though Futaba had seen Akira like this yesterday, seeing him again brought fresh tears to her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her shirt sleeve; she refused to let this get to her again.

There was a vase on the table beside Akira’s cot. It hadn’t been there yesterday; one of the nurses must have put it there during the night. There were no flowers, and it looked out of place without them.

She hadn’t brought any. And she didn’t want to leave him alone to buy some.

Futaba wished that Sojiro was here with her. She didn’t like being alone right now.

“Ummm… hey. Akira.” Futaba said out loud, against the silence of the hospital room. It felt so weird, like she was talking to herself. But she forced herself to continue. “So, I did some research last night.”

She slowly sat down in the seat by his cot. 

“I read that coma patients can sometimes listen to their surroundings. And that talking to coma patients might help them wake up. I don’t know if that’s scientifically proven or not… but I’m gonna pretend that it is. So I’m just gonna… talk to myself and hope that you’re really listening to me.” Futaba continued. 

She paused, waiting and hoping to see if that would elicit a response from Akira. But nope, nothing. 

“Sojiro couldn’t come in this morning, but he wanted to.” Futaba explained. “You know how busy Leblanc can be in the mornings. Well, it usually isn’t busy at all. You know that. But he had to stay open for the few regulars that we do have.

“He said he’ll come by later in the day, when we don’t get as many customers. But don’t worry, I’m staying here until you wake up. You can’t get rid of me this easily, Akira!”

Again she waited. Again, her only response was the slow, monotonous beeps of Akira’s heart monitor. This was harder than Futaba anticipated. She couldn’t fight down the doubt that started to poke away at her resolve. She hunched into herself in her seat. _Come on Futaba, don’t cry._

“Umm, if it is true that you can hear me, then you probably heard us last night. Uh, me and Ryuji.” Futaba said low, voice quiet. “I’m sorry I yelled at him. I was still processing what happened to you. It reminded me a lot of―”

Futaba choked on her words. And yep, she was definitely crying now.

“It reminded me of my mom.” Futaba forced herself to say. “And I don’t know, Ryuji going on about demonic possessions really made me angry. It’s like he isn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Just… hurry and wake up so you can tell Ryuji that he’s an idiot with an overactive imagination, okay?” Futaba said. “Deal?”

She let that settle in the air for a moment, pretending that Akira was just thinking through that before giving her an answer. And then she leaned towards Akira and picked up his nearest hand. It felt strangely cold, and it bothered her that Akira wouldn’t give her hand a reactive squeeze. But she chose to ignore how much that bothered her, instead focusing on giving Akira’s hand a loose shake.

“There. We shook on it. No turning back now, Kira.” Futaba said as she let go of his hand. “You’re taking my side when you wake up.”

* * *

Ann arrived an hour later. 

The first thing Ann did was take Futaba into a tight hug. Futaba hadn’t known how much she needed that hug until she wrapped her own arms around Ann and bit back down a tired sob. She was so tired of crying all the time; she hadn’t stopped since last night. 

Ann guided Futaba’s head into the crook of her neck, and she combed her fingers through the younger girl’s long hair. It felt nice.

“How are you holding up?” Ann asked, not even bothering to pull away yet.

“It’s difficult.” Futaba answered honestly. “I don’t like seeing him this way, but I don’t want to leave him either.”

She felt awful for saying that. It was horribly selfish, but Futaba knew she could speak openly with Ann without fear of being looked down on.

“Well now you don’t have to do it alone, Futaba.” Ann said as she gave the other girl a pat on the back of her head. “I’m here to stay for the long haul.”

It was then that Futaba finally pulled away, and she noticed that Ann had brought several bags with her. Futaba took one of the bags and opened it, revealing a thin blanket and a hoodie, both of which were wrapped around a pillow. In another bag was a bunch of snacks and treats, most of which Futaba recognized as Ann’s favorites. 

“Uh Ann? I don’t think Akira can eat these.” Futaba said, looking back at the other girl.

“They're not for him, silly. They’re for you. I had a feeling you were going to hole up here until Akira gets better.” Ann said. “Am I right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” There was no point in denying it.

“Thought so. By the way, _these_ are for him.” Ann said, holding up the remaining bags. 

Ann started to unpack the rest of her things. Surprising Futaba, the first thing Ann took out was a small bouquet of flowers. Ann took the flowers and carefully placed them in the vase, and then she took out her water bottle and watered them. The next thing out of the bag was a blanket, identical to the one Ann gave Futaba. Ann placed it over Akira’s form.

And then out came a picture frame, which Ann set right next to the vase.

It was a picture of all of them. It must have been taken last summer, when they had gone on their traditional “End of Summer Beach Outing”. They were all in their swimsuits, hiding from the intense heat of the afternoon sun under a beach umbrella. They had just gotten ice cream, and the person behind the camera (Makoto, if Futaba remembered correctly) managed to take the picture just as Ryuji’s popsicle slipped from its stick.

Futaba looked at Akira in the picture, who had caught sight of the disaster seconds before it could happen, and had tried to stop it. But Akira had only managed to slap the sticky red mess into Haru’s back, eliciting a surprised face from the girl.

Futaba couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the memory.

“He felt so bad for doing that, remember?” Ann said, pulling Futaba away from her thoughts. Ann was smiling, looking at the picture too. “Her bathing suit ended up having a huge red stain. And because Akira’s such a gentleman, he wanted to pay for it.”

“Yeah, good thing Haru refused.” Futaba couldn’t help but smile back. It was weak, but a smile nonetheless. “Do you remember what brand it was? Akira would _still_ be paying for a replacement.”

“Yeah, he would be…” Ann said with a sigh. That smile of hers was suddenly dropped, and Futaba could see through Ann’s usual cheer. She looked worried, and there was a hint of fear in her eyes. “You know, this wasn’t how I thought our summer vacation was going to start. I was so excited to see Akira again, but...”

“Yeah, I get it, Ann.” Futaba said with a nod. “It sucks.”

Ann came over and took the empty seat by Futaba. She then reached forward and took Akira’s hand in both of hers. Ann gave it a tight squeeze.

“Get better, Akira. We’ll wait for you, as long as it takes.”

* * *

Yusuke showed up not long after.

He, like Ann, came with a bag of supplies. It was small, and rolled up tightly so it could fit under his arm without getting in the way. He stood silently in the doorway and took a long moment to look around the small room. His gaze swept from Akira on the cot, to the two girls leaning into one another in their chairs, and to the small window that let in a little bit of natural light. 

“How is he doing?” Yusuke finally asked, attention settling on them.

“No changes. But I’d like to think he knows we’re here with him.” Ann answered.

“I’m sure he does.” Yusuke said with a short nod. “I read last night that coma patients are able to hear their surroundings, and they recognize voices with those they’re familiar with. So that’s why I brought these.”

He placed the wrapped bag down on the cot by Akira’s feet. And then he presented the bag’s contents to Futaba and Ann. In his hands were 3 old, slightly scratched VHS tapes. Even from here, Futaba could read the scraggy, handwritten titles on all three. _Best of Bob Ross, Key Artists of Latin America,_ and _The Works and Theories of Paul Cézanne_. 

“Um, Yusuke? There’s no tape player in the room.” Ann pointed out. 

“Really? That’s disappointing. I could have sworn they were standard for most hospital rooms.” Yusuke said, frowning slightly. He carefully put the tapes back into the bag.

“That might have been true like, 10 years ago, Inari.” Futaba said with a sigh. “Besides, if Akira can only recognize familiar voices, why would these help him?”

“For your information, Akira and I like to watch these together when the weather is bad. We even painted along with one of these once.” Yusuke said. 

And here he paused to fish out his phone from his pocket. Yusuke stepped towards the others, showing them a picture of himself and Akira. They were up in Leblanc’s attic, holding two small canvases, showing nearly identical landscapes. The canvas in Yusuke’s hands was an expertly painted pastoral scene, but the one in Akira’s had a weird angle, and his tree’s were misshapen. Yet both boys were smiling, clearly enjoying themselves. 

Not to mention that their faces were covered in paint. Akira’s cheeks, nose, and even his glasses had several swipes and fingerprints of blue, green, and white paint. Yusuke was almost entirely unscathed, save for the thick, jagged line of dark blue against one cheek that suspiciously looked like a brushstroke.

“Akira was quite good for having no academic training whatsoever.” Yusuke said, pocketing his phone. “And I thought listening to these might stimulate his brain and help him wake up. Oh well, another time perhaps.”

He returned to the bag and shifted it around. And then he pulled out a thick textbook. He turned to Akira and sat down on the edge of the cot, careful not to sit on the other boy’s feet.

“This will have to do until then.” Yusuke said. He opened the book and started reading. “Chapter 1: creating art with meaning in a Post-Modernist setting…"

* * *

Around noon, they all received a message in the group chat from Makoto. She wanted to video chat with them, and after sending a message to Haru to see if she was also available, the three teens in Tokyo all huddled close together, hoping that they’d all be in the frame of the video. Once everyone was situated, Futaba started the video call.

The video opened up, showing Makoto in a brightly lit hotel room. It looked like she was just starting to pack, as her suitcase was on top of an already stripped bed. Just out of the corner of their eyes, they could occasionally see Makoto’s sister between the crack of the doorframe, moving around in the second half of their hotel room. 

The screen split only a few seconds later, and there was Haru. There was the faint rush of wind that blew into her phone’s speaker, and they could see that she was sitting out on the balcony of her own hotel room.

 _“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”_ Makoto started, voice grainy from the call. _“Sis and I are just about to check out and head for the airport, so I won’t have another chance to get in contact with you all until we get back.”_

“There’s nothing really going on. Except for Yusuke reading his summer homework for Akira, that is.” Ann said.

 _“Then there’s been no changes?”_ Haru asked, somehow sounding both hopeful and disappointed at the same time.

Futaba shook her head. “Nope. Not yet. Trust me guys, as soon as I know, you’ll know.”

 _“I suppose it was wishful thinking that he’d be awake by now.”_ Haru said with a sigh.

“You’re not the only one, Haru.” Ann said, nodding her head. 

_“I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but could you possibly tilt your phone towards Akira?”_ Makoto said. _“It’s just… I haven’t seen it for myself yet, and I think I need to.”_

“Yeah. Of course, Koto.” Futaba said.

Yusuke and Ann moved to make room as Futaba leaned forward, angling her phone so that it was recording Akira’s sleeping form. She tried not to show too much of the medical machines Akira was hooked up on, instead trying to just show his sleeping face. The room fell quiet as both Haru and Makoto took in Akira. As more time passed, the somewhat calm atmosphere that Yusuke and Ann had created with their arrival dissipated.

Finally, Makoto spoke up. Her voice was sad. _“Thank you.”_

Futaba moved the phone back to face the three of them. Both Makoto and Haru’s expressions had faltered, revealing that same sadness that had seeped into the air. Haru looked like she was on the verge of tears, and Makoto was avoiding eye contact with the others.

 _“Have the doctors figured out what is wrong with him yet?”_ Makoto forced herself to continue.

“Not yet, which is the frustrating problem.” Futaba said. “He didn’t receive any noteworthy head injuries. And all the rest of his injuries are minor, at worst. Hold on; the doctors explained this better.” 

She then handed her phone over to Yusuke, and she moved out of the seat. She found the clipboard that was tucked to the end of the cot and flipped it over. Futaba went back towards Ann and Yusuke, and she skimmed through the notes.

“It’s a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo, but basically it’s like he’s just sleeping and can’t wake up. Whatever switch in his brain that makes that happen just decided to stop working.” Futaba paused as she flipped right to the end of the notes. “Right now, they’re trying to see if he’ll wake up naturally in the next couple days. And if not then that’s when they’ll… they’ll move him to the Intensive Care Ward…”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Yusuke said somberly.

 _“No. It isn’t.”_ Makoto agreed.

There was a pause as all five of them dwelled on that thought.

 _“By the way, where’s Ryuji?”_ Haru asked. _“It’s strange that he’s not already there with you.”_

“Oh. Uh, yeah. That’s probably my fault.” Futaba said.

 _“Oh? And why is that?”_ Makoto asked, and Futaba could already hear that disappointed tone of hers.

“Well, remember when you told us that we should wait for Ryuji to tell us what happened on his terms?” Futaba started. “I might have, um, freaked out on him last night and demanded answers. And then got into a huge fight with him.”

Ann sighed. “Well, did he at least tell you what happened?”

“Yeah, and it was _nonsense_ .” Futaba said with a frustrated sigh. Just thinking about the bullshit Ryuji had tried to pull with her last night was making her angry all over again. “He went on about how he and Akira were, _apparently_ , in some kind of hell world. And that what really happened was that Akira was possessed by a demon.”

“Well, perhaps what Ryuji told you was something that he truly believed.” Yusuke offered with a shrug of his shoulders. He paused, bringing his hand to his chin as he thought. “Trauma comes in all forms, after all. Although, I’ve never expected Ryuji to have such an active imagination…”

“I don’t know… I’ve known Ryuji for years.” Ann said, shaking her head. “He’s not the kind of guy to make stuff up like that. Especially about something as important as Akira getting hurt.”

 _“Wait Ann, are you saying that you believe him?”_ Haru asked.

“No. I don’t. I just want to wait and ask him myself, that’s all.” Ann said, defending herself. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Futaba, but maybe if we ask Ryuji without getting angry at him, maybe it will help him tell the truth.”

“Well, Ryuji did say that he’d stop by today. You can ask him yourself when he gets here.” Futaba said.

* * *

Just after 3 in the afternoon, Sojiro finally arrived at the hospital. 

By the time he got there, he found Ann and Yusuke with Futaba. The three friends had long since abandoned the two plastic armchairs, their bags and belongings taking their place, and were all on the ground, leaning against the nearby wall. A blanket had been thrown over their legs, despite the humid but air-conditioned air. 

Futaba looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep, exhaustion clear in the bags under her eyes, as her head rested against Ann’s shoulder. Sojiro couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh as he stood outside the door, staring through its small window at his daughter. He knew she was taking this especially hard. Sojiro wished he could do more to take her mind off of things. But then again, he was happy enough that Ann and Yusuke were there for her.

Yusuke was actually asleep, head rolled back and mouth hanging open. A sketch pad was resting against his legs, his right hand loosely gripping a pencil that threatened to slip at a moment’s notice. Sojiro wondered how much sleep that boy had been getting before this all happened.

Ann was reading a magazine, carefully flipping through pages so as to not disturb Futaba or Yusuke. She looked up and caught sight of Sojiro, and she offered him a faint smile. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Finally caught, Sojiro carefully opened the door and stepped inside the room. The sound of the door latching behind him startled both Futaba and Yusuke to full consciousness.

“Hey.” Sojiro said, voice quiet. “How are you three doing?”

Futaba answered with a yawn, stretching her arms out. “Fine. You should be asking Akira that.”

She was deflecting. Sojiro frowned; that wasn’t a good sign. Time to change subjects. “You three haven’t been bothering any of the nurses, have you?”

Ann shook her head. “No. They haven’t paid any attention to us, actually. They just come to check up on Akira and then leave.” 

“Well, they’ll probably want to do a more thorough check up when he’s not having visitors. Why don’t you guys go get something to eat?” Sojiro offered. As much as they probably want to stay with Akira, it would be good for their mental health to get away for at least an hour. Just to get their minds off things.

Yusuke made a sound as he thought about it. And then he picked himself up, stretching his arms. “I suppose we should see if the hospital cafeteria is still offering food. I wonder if it’s cheaper than surrounding restaurants…”

Sojiro was already shaking his head.

“No. Go get yourselves some real food. My treat.” He pulled out his wallet and handed his card over to Futaba. “Just don’t go overboard, alright? Keep things reasonable.”

Fortunately, the three took the bait and left with a series of “Thanks, Boss!” 

And that left Sojiro alone in the room with Akira. He waited until he heard the teens’ footsteps fade down the hall, towards the elevators. Sojiro then let out a sigh and moved over towards Akira, moving one of their bags out of a chair and pulling it closer to the cot. 

Sojiro silently watched Akira, filled with a worry that he hadn’t wanted the kids to see.

He reached out and took Akira’s hand, clutching it tightly, and whispered. “Come back to us, Kid.”

* * *

Ryuji had meant to come a lot earlier in the day. He really had. 

But today seemed to be working against him. 

First, he had gotten a crappy night’s sleep. It had taken Ryuji forever to calm down enough to even attempt going to bed, despite how exhausted he was. And when he did eventually fall asleep, he kept having vivid dreams about Akira. He couldn’t remember much about them, except that every single one woke him up in a dazed panic. And they left the lasting image of sharp yellow eyes burned in the back of his mind. 

All in all, he had gotten maybe 3 hours of sleep? Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. He woke up feeling more exhausted than he had turning in. But Ryuji still trudged out of bed, knowing that it would be a pointless effort trying to sleep in.

And then he had to deal with his Ma in the morning, who hadn't been there when he came home last night because of her late shift. And she had woken up to seeing her son covered in bruises and wrapped bandages. 

Ryuji really did feel horrible for scaring her like that.

Ryuji had tried his best to calmly explain to her that _yes_ , he was fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal. _(It was a lie and he knew it)_. But he didn’t mention anything about what had happened and why he was all bruised up. Ryuji certainly didn’t mention anything about Akira.

After getting a long lecture that had only been cut short because Ma would’ve been late for her next shift, Ryuji was left alone to his own devices. And that’s when his mind started to get the better of him. Thoughts and questions that Ryuji pointedly ignored yesterday were bombarding him.

How the hell had Akira gotten home? 

Why was he in a coma?

Was that monster still inside him? 

Even just thinking about that possibility made Ryuji’s gut churn horribly. What really bothered Ryuji was that he _knew_ it was more than a possibility. Back there in that strange world, it had mentioned coming back to this one. It could happen. It might have happened.

And as much as Ryuji wanted to visit Akira in the hospital, that meant confronting that possibility.

Ryuji wanted to do nothing more than ignore it.

So Ryuji dragged his feet the entire day. Ryuji cleaned the kitchen, shopped for much needed groceries, he even did his laundry, which had been starting to pile up. Every little chore that Ryuji had been putting off until exams had ended, and then decided to ignore some more because it was finally summer break, he forced himself to buckle down and do them. 

But soon his guilt for ignoring Akira started getting the better of him. What if Akira woke up while Ryuji was off skulking? What if Akira was actually perfectly normal? What kind of friend would do that? So Ryuji forced himself to suck it up and he left his apartment.

By that time, most of the day was already over. Ryuji trudged his way to the hospital, doing his best not to actually think about things during the train ride to Shibuya.

The nurses at the front desk recognized him. They gave him strange looks. He wondered if they overheard the police questioning him last night. Ryuji hunched his shoulders and immediately headed towards the elevators.

Ryuji could hear familiar voices as he rounded the corner to Akira’s hospital room. And sure enough, almost everyone was there before him, save for Makoto and Haru. Even Sojiro was there, leaning against the windowsill as he read a book. Ryuji eyed Futaba warily through the glass window; she was probably still angry at him. 

Ryuji only gave himself a moment to prepare himself, and then opened the door. Everyone turned to look at him, their conversations stopping immediately.

Ann was the first to speak up. “Well look who finally decided to show up.” 

Ryuji sighed, already beginning to think that this was a mistake. Great, Futaba already told them all how crazy he was. And they were probably all mad at him. Ryuji did not feel like trying to explain himself again.

“Look, Ann―”

Whatever he was about to say stopped in its tracks as Ann came over and took him into a hug. Ryuji had… not been expecting that.

“Would it have killed you to respond to any of our messages?!” Ann asked as she pulled away from her hug, giving him a stern look. Immediately Ryuji felt sheepish. “It’s not just Akira that we’ve been worried sick for.”

Oops. 

“Shit Ann, I didn’t mean to ignore you. Any of you. I’ve just been kinda, uh…” Having trouble focusing on anything? Constantly on the verge of a panic attack? “... I haven’t been thinking straight.”

Ann’s stern look faltered at that. She let out a sympathetic sigh and took his elbow, leading him towards everyone else.

“How have you been feeling?” Sojiro asked once they were close enough.

“Um, tired. A little sore.” Ryuji answered as honestly as he could. “I’m fine, Boss. Really.”

“That’s good. Make sure you get enough rest.” Sojiro said with a nod, and then returned to his book.

Ryuji felt Futaba’s eyes on him, and he turned to face her. She was giving him a slight scowl, but much of the heat and animosity from last night was no longer present. But Ryuji could tell that she still didn’t completely forgive him. 

Not that he was apologizing. He told her the damn truth.

Futaba gave him a stiff nod in acknowledgement, to which he returned. And after that, she looked away from Ryuji, back to Akira. It was clear that she didn’t want to talk to him, and he didn't want to talk to her. At least they were both on the same page, then.

Ryuji felt awkward just standing there. “So, uh, is he doing better?”

“No changes. But it’s only been a day.” Yusuke said. “There’s still time for Akira to recover, so don’t get too discouraged.”

“We’ve been talking to him. It’s supposed to help.” Ann said. “Why don’t you try, Ryuji?”

“Uh… sure.” Why not?

Ryuji stepped forward, and when he couldn’t think of anything to actually say, he just stood there awkwardly. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, even Futaba’s. He didn’t like that. His palms were starting to sweat. Why was he so god damn nervous all of a sudden? 

The longer he stood there like an idiot without saying anything, the more Ryuji just wanted to leave.

Thankfully, Sojiro was there to rescue him. “Here, why don’t we give you some privacy?” 

“... Yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

Sojiro then looked at the others pointedly. And despite a few mumbled complaints from Futaba, they shuffled out the door. Ryuji waited until the door closed behind them to move. And even then, all he did was shift his attention onto Akira. He let out a sigh as he took in his best friend again. 

Yusuke had been right; there hadn’t been any changes since last night. Ryuji didn’t know if he was relieved about that.

“Umm, hey, Akira. It’s me, Ryuji.” Ryuji started; he was having trouble finding the right words to say. He paused, trying to think of what to say next while not sounding like a total idiot. “I uh, I guess we both managed to escape that strange world. That was pretty wild, wasn’t it?”

Damn it, why was he talking about this? This was the last thing he had wanted to bring up.

Ryuji shifted on his feet, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t asked to be alone. He reluctantly took one of the abandoned chairs by Akira’s cot and scooted it closer. Ryuji fell quiet again, and the long pause in his one sided conversation grew uncomfortably longer. 

He was getting frustrated with himself. Why was he so bad when it came to talking?

“I gotta be honest dude. I still don’t want to believe any of that shit yesterday was real. And if it weren’t for some of the injuries we got over there, I _wouldn’t_ believe it.” Ryuji said, his voice softening almost to a whisper. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at the claw marks on the back of his hand. “I just want to forget everything.

“Futaba’s pissed at me. The others probably are too if she told them what I told her last night.” Ryuji really wished he had kept his mouth shut last night. “That seems to be the only thing I’m good at, huh… getting you hurt and pissing others off.

“Shit. This wasn’t supposed to be about me. Sorry, Akira. Just forget what I just said. If you can actually hear me, that is.” Ryuji said with a shake of his head. “Look, whatever happened over there, what happened to you… that was terrifying.

“I just hope you managed to escape that thing. And I mean the _real_ you. I want my best friend back, okay?”

Ryuji looked down at Akira's hand. The sheets around it were rumpled, as if more than one person had taken it over the course of the day. Ryuji carefully took it too, feeling the weight of it in his own hand. He gripped it tight as he forced himself to continue.

“I don’t know, just get better before summer ends, okay? We still have a lot of shit to do before you go back to Inaba.” Ryuji said. “It’ll be pretty lonely without you by my side, Akira. So… so could you get better? And we can just forget about that weird bullshit yesterday. Deal?”

Ryuji didn’t know what more to say. He really was bad when it came to talking about stuff. 

“Well, uh, that’s it.” Ryuji said with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I feel like it’s all my fault. Just don’t wake up angry at me.”

Akira’s hand twitched in his. 

Ryuji’s breath got stuck in his throat. He stared at the hand, and it twitched again. Eyes widening in surprise, Ryuji glanced up at Akira. There was movement behind those closed eyes. And there was a brief moment, shorter than a second, that Ryuji feared that he would be greeted with glowing yellow eyes. That his fears would turn out to be true.

But all that greeted him were dazed, barely open grey eyes. _Familiar_ grey eyes. And the faintest hint of a smile that tweaked the corners of Akira’s mouth. A smile that Ryuji was familiar with.

Ryuji could have collapsed from the relief that was overwhelming him.

“I’m n… not angry at you.” Akira whispered, his words more air than voice. He took a short breath, and it sounded almost pained. But Akira was still smiling. And then he repeated, voice a tad stronger. “I’m not angry at you.”

“Akira?!” Ryuji gasped. “Damn it dude, you had me freaking out for a second!”

Akira laughed at that. It was weak, but that didn’t matter to Ryuji.

“Wasn’t my intention. Sorry.” Akira said, rolling his head to the side. He closed his eyes and took in a big, deep breath as if he was relaxing in the sun, not confined to a cot in a hospital room. Akira gave Ryuji’s hand another squeeze. “Next time it’ll go better.”

Ryuji couldn’t hold back his own laugh at that. “Yeah, well hopefully there won’t be a next time. Hold on, let me get everyone.”

“Everyone’s here?” Akira asked, surprised.

“Yeah dude! Everyone was worried sick when you wouldn’t wake up.” 

Ryuji got up and ran to the door. He poked his head out, and found the others waiting a few doors down the hall. Futaba was sitting on the ground, against the wall, with Ann and Yusuke standing over her. Sojiro was further away, talking on his phone. 

Yusuke caught sight of him from his peripherals, and Ryuji watched as Yusuke’s questioning look turned to one of hope. Yusuke was quick to catch Futaba’s attention, and Futaba’s head whipped around to face Ryuji.

“Hey! He’s awake!” Ryuji shouted down the hall, feeling himself grin. In that moment, he didn’t care about how loud he was. “Akira’s awake!”

Futaba was already shoving her way through him. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, however, and he just turned to catch Futaba practically throwing herself on top of Akira. 

“Akira!” She shouted his name, a half-sob of relief. Ryuji heard Akira let out a small _oof_ as Futaba propped him up enough to take him into a hug. He could barely see Akira giving him a startled look over Futaba’s shaking shoulder. “You’re finally awake!”

“H-hi Futaba.” Akira said, voice starting to sound choked up. His arms moved with poor coordination as he attempted to return Futaba’s hug.

“That’s all you have to say after all this?!” Futaba said, voice still rising in volume.

“Calm down, Futaba. Don’t overwhelm him.” Sojiro said with a sigh as he entered the room. 

Akira’s gaze fell onto Sojiro, and then he watched as Ann and Yusuke trailed behind the adult. Both looked like they wanted to join the dog pile with Futaba, but stayed in place as they caught sight of Akira, awake and alert. Akira’s eyes darted between everyone else in the room, and then it looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“You’re really all here?” Akira asked, voice filled with a strange sense of wonder. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” Ann said.

And there Akira went. He was crying now. He finally managed to wrap his arms around Futaba, and he gripped her tight. Yusuke and Ann weren’t able to wait a moment longer, and they finally joined in, with Ann pulling Ryuji along. So now they were all sitting on Akira’s cot, in the middle of a massive group hug. 

“Why can’t I stop crying?” Akira asked as he tried to wipe the tears off his face.

“Who knows? Maybe you’re just super emotional right now?” Ann said with a shrug.

“I want to stop.” Akira said. 

Sojiro spoke up, stepping closer to the group. “It’s because you’re still recovering, Kid. You’ll feel better tomorrow after you get some more rest.”

“I don’t want to sleep anymore. I’m done sleeping.” Akira said, shaking his head. 

“Well, I’m sure your doctors will disagree with that.” Sojiro said.

“Come on man, just do what he says. That way you can get home sooner.” Ryuji said as he ruffled Akira’s hair. 

Akira gasped. “Do that again.”

And of course Ryuji complied. But not without a playful tease. “You’re not usually one for physical affection, man. Are you suddenly turning into a cat?”

“I’m super emotional right now, shut up.” Akira quipped back, but there was no heat in those words. He was still sniffling, tears falling down his cheeks. And then he was quiet for a second, letting his thoughts overwhelm him. “I love you guys, really.”

That declaration only made Futaba squeeze Akira tighter. “And we love you too, Akira.”

“Just try not to fall into any unexpected comas again.” Yusuke said. “Just one was terrifying enough.”

“Gotcha. I’ll be sure to tell you when I’m planning the next one.”

“You dork!” Ryuji said, punching Akira’s shoulder. “He means try not to do it again at all.”

“Alright, I won’t. Oh, that reminds me. I think I’m supposed to call you an idiot with an overactive imagination. But I don’t know why.”

“ _Ha!_ In your face, Ryuji!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of a slow chapter, with lots of individual scenes. But I wanted to do a lot of different interactions between characters. Things will start to pick up now.


	5. Chapter 5

Convincing Akira to stay over night at the hospital had been nothing short of a hassle. Once Akira was awake, and after the Kid had calmed down considerably, he had wanted nothing more than to get out of bed and leave. Sojiro couldn’t blame him, but as the adult, he had to be the voice of reason.

The problem came when Akira refused to listen to said voice of reason. No matter what Sojiro told him, Akira argued with him. It got to the point where Sojiro was almost convinced the only thing that would keep Akira in place would be literally tying him down to his cot. That is, until Sojiro resorted to bribery.

“Look, Akira. They’re not going to let you just leave. The doctors are going to want to monitor you for a while before they’ll let you out.” Sojiro stated _again_ for the fifth time in the past half hour. He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, if you can be patient and wait until tomorrow, I’ll treat you to that expensive sushi place you and Futaba like so much.”

Taking Sojiro by surprise, Akira eyed him warily. “You mean it?”

“Yes, of course I mean it.”

“…fine…” 

And that was that. Visiting hours ended soon after, and they all said goodbye to Akira for the night. The kids all made promises to make solid plans after Akira was discharged and back home. Even after agreeing to stay the night, Sojiro could see how torn Akira was to be left alone. Poor kid.

The next morning, Sojiro and Futaba left early to check Akira out of the hospital, bringing with them a bag of fresh clothes for the boy. There had been no complaints from the night staff of Akira acting out or acting odd during the night. 

That was, except for the fact that Akira hadn’t even attempted to get some more sleep after everyone had left. So the Akira that greeted them, finally out of his hospital gown and back in his own clothes, looked exhausted and miserable. 

He stood in place, hunched over and loosely clutching the bag with his dirty clothes. There were noticeable bags under Akira’s half lidded eyes. He kept leaning side to side, as if his balance had been thrown off. Sojiro half expected Akira would fall over if even the slightest breeze brushed against him. 

Sojiro let out a disappointed sigh and shook his head. This kid. Sojiro ordered Futaba to help Akira to the car while he finished filling out the paperwork. So much paperwork.

By the time Sojiro finished everything, Akira and Futaba were already situated in their seats. Akira had taken the back, resting horizontal across both seats (with his feet up on the fabric, Sojiro couldn’t help but notice; he’ll allow it, just this once). Akira was resting his head against the window as he looked outside, using his bag of dirty clothes as a makeshift pillow.

Sojiro opened the door, sitting down in the driver’s seat. He started the engine. “Alright. Let’s get you back to Leblanc.”

“Wait. You told me we were getting sushi.” Akira said, sitting up straighter in his seat. Sojiro twisted around and caught sight of his sullen loo. “We made a deal last night.”

“Yes. We did. I told you I would take you to get sushi. I never specified when.” Sojiro stated. “And judging by how you’re having trouble sitting upright, that’ll be after you get some sleep.”

“I’m _done_ sleeping.” Akira stated angrily.

“So you’ve said, last night.” Sojiro said. “But in case you’ve forgotten, I’m still in charge of you, Akira. And that means making sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“ _I’m fine_.” Akira said, letting out a frustrated sigh. 

“You can lie to yourself all you want; it won’t change my mind.”

“Come on, Sojiro! What if Akira just needs a little pick me up?” Futaba offered, looking from her father to her friend.

“Sorry. I’m putting my foot down. We’ll go out another day.”

Akira sunk into himself, crossing his arms and refusing to look at Sojiro. He could feel Akira’s anger from the front seat. It caught Sojiro by surprise. Akira had never really acted like a grumpy teenager whenever he stayed with them. So now that he was finally glimpsing how Akira acted while in a mood was just a little startling.

But Sojiro just shrugged it off. Akira was still a kid, who was still recovering from a traumatic experience (which Sojiro _did_ have experience with), and was running on what was probably no sleep. He’d give the kid a break. 

Sensing that this argument wasn’t necessarily over, but just momentarily put on hold, Sojiro shifted the car into drive and started on the journey back to Yongen-Jaya. 

After a few minutes of silent driving Futaba carefully shifted in her seat. She turned around to face the back, her seat belt digging into her back. She spoke quietly, as if not trying to further provoke either Akira or Sojiro.

“Hey, cheer up, Kira.” She said, reaching over and patting his shoulders. “Makoto should be free in a couple hours. How about we invite everyone to Leblanc and just chill out for the day? I can ask Ann or Ryuji to pick up a DVD from the rental store.”

Futaba then glanced over to Sojiro, silently asking for permission. Her eyes were wide and pleading, using puppy eyes that haven’t worked on Sojiro in years. But Sojiro found his resolve crumbling underneath that look. He let out a sigh.

“Fine. As long as you guys don’t get too rowdy. _And_ if you let Akira get some sleep if he needs it.”

“Yes! Thanks Sojiro!” Futaba said, already pulling out her phone to text the others.

Soon enough, there was a pair of vibrations as Futaba received her replies. Sojiro glanced up from the road and looked in the rear-view mirror, checking to see if Akira was still angry with him. And he caught sight as Akira stared down at his phone, wild black hair falling into his eyes yet clearly confused at what he saw for a brief moment. 

And that’s when Sojiro realized something. “Akira? Where’s your glasses?” 

Akira didn’t even bother to look up from his phone as he answered bluntly. “Don’t know. Don’t need them.”

“Wait, you don’t need them to see?” Futaba suddenly asked, sounding slightly offended. Again she whipped around to face Akira. “All this time?! I thought we were partners in crime! Two four-eyes against the world! I thought I knew you, Akira. And now you _betray me?!_ ”

“I’ve got a spare pair back home if you want me to wear them.” Akira offered with a shrug. 

Futaba deflated a little. “It won’t be the same. I’ll know it’s all a lie.”

Again, Akira only shrugged in response.

After that, the rest of the drive was in relative silence, save for the few times that both Akira and Futaba’s phones went off. Sojiro didn’t pay much attention to them, preferring to get home as soon as possible. Maybe he could convince Akira to take a nap before the rest of their friends arrived for their movie night.

Fortunately the drive wasn’t that long, especially with traffic being uncharacteristically light this morning. They made good time.

Sojiro parked the car in their tiny garage, and Futaba immediately headed into the house. She shouted back at them as she ran inside, promising to take care of plans for the impromptu movie night. All Akira had to do was show up. Which, in Sojiro’s opinion, was a smart decision. The kid needed his rest.

Knowing that Futaba would be fine on her own, Sojiro motioned for Akira to follow him to Leblanc.

“Do you have your set of keys?” Sojiro asked as they neared the cafe.

“Um.” Akira paused, patting down his pockets. He shook his head. “No. I think I might have left them back… there.”

Sojiro sighed. “Okay. I’ll make sure to stop by a locksmith sometime soon to make a replacement.”

Sojiro unlocked Leblanc and moved to the side, allowing Akira to go first. Akira trudged in, clutching his plastic bag of clothes close to his chest. He paused to take a look around the cafe, head sweeping from one side to the next. Akira slowly walked over towards the booths, trailing a hand against the countertop, resting it against the fabric of the seats. And then he walked over towards the coffee grinders, placing his palm against the turn wheel. 

Sojiro had trouble placing that expression on the kid’s face. He would have called it something akin to wonder, but that didn’t make much sense.

“I didn’t redecorate Leblanc while you were gone, Akira.” Sojiro said, teasing the boy.

“It’s just… different than how I remember it.” Akira said, finally looking up at Sojiro. “A good different.”

“Akira. It’s been two days.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” A ghost of a smile at the edge of Akira’s lips.

That was a strange thing to say, but Sojiro didn’t think too much about it. It might have been the exhaustion finally getting to Akira, making him act strange. So Sojiro shrugged it off as he closed the door behind him. He had to get the kid set up upstairs and settled before he opened the shop. 

Sojiro made his way around the counter, starting the process of getting the cafe ready. He made his way to the fridge in the kitchen, where he caught sight of a small scrap of paper taped to the fridge’s door. It was a contact number, one that he recognized belonging to the Kurusus. Suddenly, Sojiro remembered his last phone call with them.

“Oh wait, there’s something you need to do before you head on up.” Sojiro said, looking up. 

He had caught Akira just before the teen could head up the stairs, foot resting on the bottom step. The teen gave him a quizzical look, and he came over to sit on the nearby stool, waiting for Sojiro to continue. 

“Your parents have been worried sick about you. They wanted you to call them.” Sojiro said. 

And then Sojiro turned back into the kitchen, thinking that would be enough. He still needed to prepare the day’s curry before he could open the shop, and now was as good a time as ever to start. It would be something to focus on while Akira was on the phone with his parents. 

And yet Sojiro hadn’t even picked up his favored cutting knife when Akira replied.

“And why would I want to do that?”

Akira’s response was bitter and sarcastic. It was a tone that Sojiro rarely heard from the teen. In fact, Sojiro couldn’t remember a time when Akira had talked back to him since he took him in. It was enough to stop Sojiro in his tracks, and he turned around to give Akira a warning look. The kid either didn’t notice, or chose to ignore it. 

Akira’s own face was a grimace, as if the idea of calling his parents was repugnant.

“Kid. You just got out of the hospital.” Sojiro stated, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah. And?”

Did Sojiro really have to spell it out for him? “Don’t you think that, as _your parents_ , they’re in the right to know that you’re fine?”

“I don’t see why I need to do it. Can’t you call them instead?” Akira asked with a shrug, and then his attention went back to his cellphone. 

“I already did, last night. But they’d rathe―”

“Oh, you already did it? Thanks, Sojiro.” Akira said, not even bothering to look up as he typed away. When Sojrio was unable to answer (because he was shocked. _Speechless_. Why was Akira talking to him like this?), Akira stood up and started walking away. “If we’re done here, I’m gonna to get ready for everyone.”

“No. No you’re _not_.” Sojiro sputtered. 

He quickly reached over the counter before Akira could get too far away and caught the kid’s elbow. Akira instantly stopped mid-step and looked down at the offending hand. He then looked back at Sojiro quizzically. And then he frowned, tugging his elbow away. Sojiro let go, just happy that he managed to catch Akira’s attention again. 

“You’re sitting your butt back down until we’re done here.” Sojiro ordered, crossing his arms and staring down the kid.

Sojiro waited, watching as Akira hesitated. Finally, Akira relented and sat back down, crossing his own arms to mirror Sojiro, complete with a copy of Sojiro’s annoyed expression. Akira even let out a heavy sigh, as if Sojiro needed another hint that he was upset with him. 

Akira’s own phone was pocketed somewhere in his clothes, out of sight. So Sojiro took his phone and set it down, pushing it towards Akira.

“This isn’t up for discussion Akira. They want you to call them, and you have an obligation to do so.” Sojiro continued. “As I was saying _before_ you interrupted me, they’d like to hear from you more than me. It doesn’t have to take long; just tell them that you're back home and need some more time to rest.”

“I’m _not_ going to call them.” Akira stated, voice hard. Akira’s own anger was barely withheld behind those words. “They rarely make the effort to call me, so why shouldn’t I return the favor?”

“Because they’re your parents!” Sojiro hated how he was shouting now, how angry he was getting. But really, how many times did Sojiro have to repeat himself before Akira understood?

Akira’s response was like a slap to the face.

“Really? You should tell them that. Maybe someday they’ll actually start thinking about me instead of shipping me off the first chance they get.” Akira scoffed, contempt thick in his voice. Akira shook his head at himself, as if that sounded unlikely. He shoved Sojiro’s phone away from him, and it almost crashed to the floor. “Until then, I’ll be fine without them.”

“What is with this newfound attitude of yours, Akira?” Sojiro couldn’t help but ask, exasperated.

Akira looked at him, confused. Whatever snarky or flippant retort the kid was about to pull out was suddenly lost. Instead, Akira just stared at Sojiro, head tilted slightly as he tried to puzzle out what Sojiro had just said. Sojiro could tell that it wasn’t an act; Akira was genuinely confused with this new line of question.

“What are you talking about?” Akira finally asked, the earlier heat directed at Sojiro was now completely gone. 

_He can’t be serious._

Sojiro’s patience was dangerously thin. He had to cool off before he took it out on the kid. So Sojiro waved the kid off, heading for the front door. 

“Call your parents. I’m serious, Akira. If I get a text from them later tonight saying that you haven’t, there’s going to be trouble.” Sojiro said, voice gruff. 

He slammed the door behind him, heading off to buy some cigarettes.

Unbeknownst to Sojiro, Akira stared out the front window for a long while, far longer than most people would, watching him leave and turn around the bend. And he continued to stare out the window long after Sojiro was gone. Akira’s jaw was clenched as he thought long and hard. Akira shook his head, frowning. 

Akira pulled out his phone and went into his contacts. And then he blocked two numbers before finally heading upstairs into Leblanc’s attic.

* * *

Movie night was about to begin, and Ryuji was running late. Which was kind of a bad thing, because he was the one who had volunteered to pick up the movie. He would have been on time, if only the group chat could have decided which movie they had wanted instead of just leaving Ryuji to figure out what to pick.

But it was just his luck that they couldn’t, so there he was, ambling down the aisles of the rental store in Shibuya.

The store had lots of options, but none of them felt like the right pick. There was the newly released medical drama that the store was heavily advertising, but for obvious reasons, no one had wanted to watch that one. Futaba and Makoto had voiced their opinions on watching a supernatural thriller, but Ryuji was not about to rent something like that anytime soon. 

Ryuji didn’t think that he’d ever be interested in horror movies again.

Ryuji shook those thoughts away. He had to stop that. 

Whatever happened the other day, it didn’t matter because Akira was back to normal.

Having movie nights with the group was normal. They did it all the time. So he just needed to stop wasting time and pick a damn movie already.

There. A movie about pirates. Everyone liked pirates. That was easy enough. Ryuji paid for the movie and then made his way towards the subway station.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Ryuji: Got the movie. I should be there in about 15-ish minutes.
> 
> Ann: Finally. We were beginning to think that we’d eat through all of our snacks before we even started.
> 
> Ann: And before you ask, no, we didn’t eat yours.
> 
> Ryuji: Good.
> 
> Akira: Although, the thought did cross my mind once or twice.
> 
> Ryuji: You better be joking, man.
> 
> Yusuke: Don’t worry, he is. He’s laughing right now.
> 
> _Yusuke sent an attachment_

Yusuke had taken a photo. It was blurry, and Akira wasn’t quite in the frame entirely. But sure enough, he was laughing. Akira had half of his face covered with his hand as he tried to wipe away tears, but Ryuji could still see his huge shit-eating grin.

_Well, at least Akira’s actually feeling better._

> Makoto: Just a heads up, Boss seems kind of grumpy right now.
> 
> Makoto: So we should try to keep it quiet tonight.
> 
> Ryuji: Any idea why?
> 
> Akira: No clue. But we probably shouldn’t push him like Makoto says.
> 
> Ryuji: Alright, thanks for letting me know.

The first thing that Ryuji noticed when he entered Leblanc was Sojiro’s irritable mood. Ryuji only had to look at the man for a couple seconds to know that Makoto and Akira were right; something was bothering him. And at the moment, Sojiro preferred to be left alone. And as if to further confirm Ryuji’s suspicions, the man only gave him a sharp grunt for a greeting, not even bothering to look up from the newspaper in his hands.

Not wanting to further piss off Sojiro, Ryuji just offered him a half-hearted wave. Again, Sojiro just gave him a curt grunt in acknowledgement. Ryuji quickly made his way into the back of the cafe, taking the stairs two steps at a time, hoping to get out of that tense, awkward atmosphere.

As Ryuji reached the top of the steps, he reached a familiar sight. Everyone was in their usual positions for movie night, with the furniture already rearranged so that everyone could easily see the small television screen. 

Ann and Makoto had taken up their usual place in the extra booth seat nearest to the TV. They had pulled out the old wooden bench that was usually tucked underneath the booth, and now both Yusuke and Futaba were using it as a footrest as they reclined in a pair of barstools that Sojiro had retired years ago.

And Akira was holed up on his mattress, a blanket wrapped around his head and shoulders as he laid on his stomach, elbows propped up.

Snacks and drinks were scattered around, in between bodies and on the floor. So were a couple spare blankets, despite how hot and humid it was. This setup was just asking for something to be accidentally knocked over if anyone had to get up for a restroom break, and chances were that it’d be something wet or sticky.

Everyone waved at Ryuji as he came in, save for Futaba, who refused to look up from her phone. And when she accidentally caught his eye, she pointedly looked away again.

(Man, that girl could really hold a grudge. Whatever.)

Ryuji grinned as he caught sight of Makoto. “Hey, Koto. How was Australia? Did you see any of those big rabbits?”

“Do you mean kangaroos, Ryuji?” Makoto asked, giving him a look. 

“Yeah! One of those things.” Ryuji said, nodding his head.

Makoto was shaking her head, but she was also smiling. She must have missed his antics. “Yes, we saw plenty of kangaroos. And much more of Australia’s wildlife. It was quite enjoyable, actually. Sis had a fun time, too.”

“How’s the jetlag?” Akira asked, tilting his head to the side. He reached out to pat her shoulder. “Australia’s pretty far away.”

“I slept through most of the flight, really. But please forgive me if I don’t make it through the movie.” Makoto said.

“Hey, if both you and Akira conk out during the movie, we’ll just save it for another day.” Futaba said with a shrug. Futaba finally turned to face Ryuji, and her expression turned… not cold, but indifferent. Her tone was harsh as she addressed him. “So do you have the movie, or what?”

Ryuji gave out an irritable sigh, but he held up the DVD case. “Calm down, Taba; I have it right here. Lemme put it in.”

“Ooh, what’d you pick this time?” Ann asked, leaning forward to get a glimpse of the case. “Oh! _The Pirates of Buccaneer Bay_ , I haven’t seen that one in years. Good choice, Ryuji!”

This announcement was met with varying levels of enthusiasm, but it sounded like everyone was fine with the movie choice. Which was good because Ryuji wasn’t going to make another movie run. Ryuji quickly fiddled around with the DVD player and then grabbed the remote, tossing it to Makoto. As old trailers started to play, Ryuji stepped away from the screen. 

The movie's volume was low, but that just made it easier to talk during the film. Already Futaba and Yusuke were debating whether the movie should be considered a cult classic. It was a bad movie. But was it a good-bad movie? All that usual bullshit.

Their heated discussion was already overpowering the trailers, but no one bothered to shush them. They still had a couple minutes before the actual film started.

Ryuji carefully made his way around the others to take his usual seat on the floor. He hadn’t even settled in and gotten comfortable before he felt someone tap his shoulder. 

It was Akira, who was smiling down at him. 

“Hey. Come sit up here with me.” Akira said quietly, trying not to disturb the others while patting an open spot on his bed.

“Are you sure? What if you want to take a nap?” Ryuji asked. He glanced back at the others, but they were too busy talking amongst themselves to hear them.

“I’ll sleep better if you’re up here with me.” Akira whispered with a small smirk and a strange look in his eyes.

Uh, _what?_

“Kidding, I’m kidding.” Akira quickly added, laughing softly. “I’m serious, though. Come on up. It has to be more comfortable than sitting on the floor.”

Ryuji chuckled himself, but it was half-hearted, weak. It was a poor attempt to shrug off that weird thing that Akira just said. Ryuji didn’t move for a second, too busy giving Akira a confused look. But then he relented, giving into Akira’s hopeful eyes. He sighed and picked himself up before plopping down by his best friend.

Akira leaned into Ryuji as he settled in his new seat, putting his weight against his side. The sudden shift of weight startled Ryuji, but he was kept in place as Akira rested his head against his shoulder nonchalantly. Akira then let out one loud exhale; a deeply relaxed sigh that sounded so content for some reason.

“I’m serious, dude. If you need to sleep, then let me know.” Ryuji said, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear him.

“I’m fine. Just relax.” Akira said, refusing to move.

Alright then. Ryuji tried to do just that.

The trailers finally ended, and the movie itself began. There was an overall lull in the conversation as everyone tried to watch the opening scene. The swell of music caught Ryuji’s attention, and he was captivated as he watched two ships begin a naval battle during a huge storm. 

Why were pirates so effing cool?

And then the movie’s infamously bad dialogue began. To which Ann and Futaba were able to perfectly quote. The movie became an impromptu stage production, surprising everyone but the two girls.

Ann started first, suddenly speaking with a strange, airy accent. “Stop! Mister Briggs! Our ship is going down, but they mustn't find our treasure map! If they do, our gold will be lost forever.”

“Aye, that we can’t Cap’n.” Futaba continued, also overacting, bringing her voice down to sound like a gruff old man. She brought one hand out of her hoodie sleeve and held it up, curling her index finger to mimic the character’s hooked hand. “Which is why I made this!”

Ann then did several over dramatic hand gestures as she spoke. “ _Gasp!_ A message in a bottle? But with the map! How brilliant! Now toss it overboard. I command it.” 

“It is done. Come now, Cap’n. Time to head to the lifeboats before those scallywags board us!”

“Go on without me, Mister Briggs. For a Captain shall always go down with his ship.” Ann said, suddenly sorrowful. “But I want you to know, you were a hell of a First Mate.”

“It’s been an honor serving you, Cap’n. ‘Till we meet again on the briny horizon.”

“How do you two know all this?!” Yusuke suddenly demanded, clearly confused.

“Because, unlike you Inari, we actually have class!”

“How―the _nerve!_ ”

And Futaba was cackling again, and she playfully threw a piece of popcorn at Yusuke. Yusuke, upon realizing that Futaba only said it to get a rise from him, shut his mouth and crossed his arms, purposefully focusing on the movie from then on out. Ann was also giggling, but she mouthed ‘sorry’ at Yusuke the first chance she got.

After that, everyone quieted down. There was still the occasional stray conversation, but nothing as boisterous as before. 

Ryuji glanced every so often at the others, just keeping an eye out to see how they were doing. Particularly on Makoto, who was clearly having trouble keeping her eyes open. It got to the point, perhaps halfway through the film, that Makoto gave up and started to lean into Ann, quietly falling asleep on the other girl.

And while he couldn’t exactly look at how Akira was doing, Akira was starting to drape himself over Ryuji too. It had been a slow process, and one that Ryuji hadn’t noticed until Akira had slumped off of his shoulder and was now lying down, his head in Ryuji’s lap. Akira had wormed his hand towards Ryuji’s, and at some point had taken it into his own. 

Ryuji hadn’t noticed until he went to reach for a can of soda, only to find that Akira’s fingers were weaved with his own. Akira had noticed the movement and tilted his head slightly to look up at Ryuji.

“You’re fine with this, right?” Akira asked, voice soft.

“I guess it’s alright.” Ryuji answered with a small shrug. It wasn’t what he expected when they planned movie night, but Akira really did look exhausted. If Akira was comfortable like this, then Ryuji didn’t really mind too much. 

“Thanks. It feels nice.” Akira said, closing his eyes. He let out a deep exhale as he relaxed back into Ryuji’s lap. “I’m so glad we did this tonight. It’s nice to finally see everyone.”

“It’s only been a year since we last saw you. And we talk all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s lonely in Inaba. When I come here, I don’t feel lonely. ” Akira said. He squeezed their hands, and then brought them both on top of his chest, letting them rise and fall with each breath. Akira covered them with his other hand, softly running his thumb over Ryuji’s knuckles. “I hate being alone. But I like being here with you, Ryuji.”

“You’re getting mushy on me, dude.” This and the constant hand holding was starting to feel a bit romantic.

Akira smirked. “Is it really ‘mushy’ if it’s the truth?”

“Save it for the ladies, Akira. We still have Operation: Get a Girlfriend this summer. They’ll eat that stuff up” 

Akira rolled his eyes, but nonetheless fell silent. 

And just when the movie was starting to get good again, too. Just when Ryuji’s favorite sword fight was starting. Ryuji perked up as he watched the fight, amazed that the actual fighting looked real compared to the rest of this low-budget film. It was always so cool to watch. 

Ryuji didn’t speak up again until the scene was over. And even then, he hesitated.

Makoto was still asleep. Ann’s eyes were glued to the screen; she was completely invested in the brewing romance in the film. Yusuke and Futaba were muttering to one another, most likely arguing again but didn’t want to be too loud to wake Makoto.

“Listen, Akira.” Ryuji started, purposefully keeping his voice low so the others couldn’t hear him. “I didn’t really want to mention this last night in front of everyone, but I can’t wait any longer. I gotta know if you’re actually okay.”

“I’m fine.” Akira answered with a yawn, turning his body again so that he was now looking up, exclusively at Ryuji. An easy smile was on his face as he continued. “Never better, actually… I wish people would stop worrying so much.”

“I mean, we sorta had a good reason, dude. What, with you being in that coma. And I mean even before that. Back when we were at that weird place.”

And Ryuji paused, hesitating as he second guessed himself. But he forced himself to continue, voice even lower than before. 

“I thought―” Ryuji's voice got caught in his throat. “I thought you had died back there. It really scared me, and I need to know if you’re okay. Or if you even remember any of that shit.”

Ryuji kind of hoped he didn’t. That way he wouldn’t have to, either.

Akira was quiet for a moment, slowly thinking his way through Ryuji’s questions.

“I thought we agreed to forget about ‘all that bullshit’ that happened that day?” Akira said, confused. He sat up to face Ryuji at eye level. And then he frowned, suddenly suspicious. “Or do you want to go back on that deal, too?”

Ryuji’s heart stopped beating for a second. It’s thrumming was offbeat in his chest, strong enough to knock the air out of his lungs. His body tensed up as his mind went numb, completely blank. But it was the sort of dull blankness that came before a horrible realization.

Oh.

_Oh fuck._

Suddenly, Akira refusing to let go of his hand made too much sense.

Ryuji jumped from his seat, knocking over his bag of chips and soda in the process, splashing it against Yusuke and Futaba. Futaba let out an aggravated shout, most of which was just Ryuji’s name at a loud volume. The others were responding as well, but Ryuji didn’t care about how he had startled them. He was more invested in getting away from Akira― _Not Akira_ , as fast as he possibly could.

24 hours. Ryuji had managed to go 24 hours thinking that everything was fine and normal. And now he had to quickly come to terms that everything that he was afraid of happening, _had happened._

“Ryuji! What is your deal?!” Futaba demanded, glaring up at him as she tried to wipe the soda off of her shirt. 

The attic was completely silent. The movie had been put on pause, Makoto gripping the remote as she dealt with being startled awake. Everyone was staring at Ryuji quietly, some confused, others annoyed. The only expression Ryuji couldn’t read was Akira’s, because it was a _blank fucking mask_. Akira just stared at him, head tilted slightly but nonetheless completely emotionless. Unnervingly motionless.

(Humans aren’t supposed to stay that still for that long.)

“Ryuji? Are you alright?” Makoto asked, shaking Ryuji back to his senses.

It took Ryuji a second to answer, because he _wasn’t alright_. “Yeah. I’m― I’m fine.”

“You don’t look like it.” Yusuke pointed out.

“No, it’s just― it’s just…” 

Akira was still staring at him. And then he was suddenly moving to stand up. Ryuji couldn’t stay here. He had to get away, _now._

“I r-remembered there’s something I need to do. Ma needs me home tonight. Sorry.”

Ryuji didn’t bother waiting for them to respond to that. He was already heading down the stairs. He could hear his friends call out to him, but their words were lost on him.

* * *

“Hey, do you mind telling me what was up with Ryuji tonight?” 

Movie night had ended a little while ago, with everyone deciding to stop for the night after Ryuji practically fled from Leblanc. They’d finish the movie another night, maybe when Haru returned from Hawaii. With that decided Makoto, Yusuke, and Ann had left for home shortly after Ryuji.

And that left Futaba and Akira to clean up after their mess. Well, it was mostly Futaba who was doing the cleaning. Akira was lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling like a total drama queen. 

He had fallen silent since Ryuji left.

“Hey. Did you hear me, Akira?” Futaba asked, throwing a stray popcorn kernel at him when he didn’t answer her right away. Without even looking at her, Akira managed to catch the kernel midair before it pelted him. “Ooh, nice catch. Working on those ninja skills?”

“Not exactly.” Akira finally spoke up, smirking.

“Well now that I know your ears are working, mind actually answering my question? Either that, or you actually help me pick up your room.” Futaba asked. And then to further prove her point, she held up the garbage back that was starting to fill up with trash.

“Sure. What was the question again?” He asked, still not moving from his spot.

Futaba rolled her eyes. “Ryuji! I’m asking about Ryuji! What’s going on with you two?”

Akira’s response was a desperate groan in frustration, and he rolled over to stuff his face in his pillow. Futaba would have found it funny (Akira was usually so well composed; this was another side of him that she rarely got to see), if she hadn’t been taken back by it. What the hell did that even mean? She went over to Akira and poked his side, to which he blindly swatted at her hand.

“Groaning is not an answer, Kira.” Futaba said, poking his side again.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Akira finally answered, voice muffled from the pillow in his face. He tilted his head to the side, his next words completely clear. “Does he not like me?”

“What are you talking about? What do you… mean…” 

Slowly, the puzzle pieces in Futaba’s mind started to fit together.

“You? And him?” Futaba started, words coming slow to her tongue. “Ryuji?!”

Akira nodded his head, and there was a muffled _uh huh_ that accompanied that.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Futaba muttered, mouth hanging open in disbelief. And then she started to grin, jumping in place from a mixture of shock and excitement that she just couldn’t contain. “I cannot _believe_ I didn’t notice this earlier! And you’ve been keeping this a secret?!”

Akira gave her an affirmative _uh huh_ , which was just as muffled as before.

“No wonder why you were so clingy with him today.” Futaba plopped down next to Akira, half filled trash bag forgotten. She wiggled in her seat, completely giddy with this newfound information.

“It was that noticeable?” Akira asked, wincing.

“Kira, you were practically snuggling with Ryuji during most of the movie. It was kinda hard not to notice.” Futaba said. “I thought you were just being weird and sleep deprived. But now―”

Akira groaned again, rolling over onto his back. Futaba laughed again. 

“Stop it. It’s not funny.” Akira said, sitting up to give her a playful shove.

“It kinda is.” Futaba said as she shoved him back, still giggling. “I just want to know when you two got together. Like, how long have you kept this a secret from the rest of us?”

Akira was turning red. “Uh, well. You see…”

Oh my god.

“ _You haven’t told him yet?!”_ Futaba couldn’t help but screech.

That earned her a panicked, wide eyed look from Akira. He leaned forward and slapped a hand over Futaba’s mouth. “Shh! Not so loud!” 

Both were silent, cautiously staring at the staircase. They were fully expecting Sojiro to stomp up and demand to know what’s going on. As the seconds passed and they realized that they were safe, Futaba licked Akira’s hand. And it got her the desired result; Akira pulled his hand away and shook the spit off, making a disgusted face.

“You’re hopeless, Akira.” Futaba teased.

“I know.” He whined. 

“No wonder he ran away with that lame ass excuse. I recognize gay panic when I see it.”

“I _know_.” Akira said again, bringing his hands up and tugging at his hair. It looked like Ryuji wasn’t the only one panicking right now. Yep, total drama queen. “How do I fix this?”

Akira was looking at her with big hopeful eyes, and Futaba realized that that hadn’t been a rhetorical question. He was asking for _her_ help. Her. The girl who had no experience with any sort of relationships, whatsoever. And suddenly this was no longer a laughing matter.

She was Akira’s closest friend. They’ve been side by side for years, long before they met any of the others. She considered him her brother. And Futaba wasn’t about to let her brother flounder through this mess without any sort of help. 

Futaba sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose, putting on her brave face. “Okay, here’s what you have to do.”

Akira instantly perked up, and she knew he’d listen to everything she had to say.

“First thing you gotta do is stop assuming that Ryuji feels the same way about you. That’s probably what freaked him out in the first place.

“Okay. Now that we’ve got that squared away. The next thing you gotta do is tell Ryuji how you feel.” Futaba told him. She then shrugged, but she kept her expression serious. “He probably knows now after tonight, but we can’t let there be any room for doubt. 

“So tomorrow you’re gonna call him and invite him somewhere. Probably not Leblanc. It’s gotta be somewhere on neutral ground.”

“How about that diner on Central Street?” 

“Perfect. Call Ryuji up and invite him there, but don’t make it seem like a date yet. All you have to do is tell him how you feel. Be completely honest with him.”

“Okay. And then what?”

“Then we work our way from there.” Futaba said. “If he feels the same way, then you’re in the clear. If not, then…” 

Akira grimaced. 

“Hey. We won’t worry about that right now. That’s Future Akira’s problem, not Present Akira’s.” Futaba said, patting Akira on the shoulder in sympathy. “Oh, and the third thing we’re gonna do is make sure you get some sleep tonight.”

“I don’t need to sleep, Futaba.” Akira said with a shake of his head.

“That’s bullshit. You look positively pooped, Kira.” Futaba stated. “Would it help if I point out that eyebags aren’t cute, or hot? Take it from a girl who has insomnia; it isn’t attractive at all.”

Akira muttered something under his breath that Futaba couldn’t catch. And there he went, sulking again. 

“Seriously, Akira. What’s going on? What’s with this sudden aversion to getting sleep?” Futaba asked.

“I’m scared that if I fall asleep, I won’t wake up again.”

He said it so bluntly that it spooked Futaba. It was the truth because underneath the exhaustion, Akira looked terrified. Now that he said something, he wasn’t trying to hide it from her.

Futaba took him into a hug. “Oh, Akira. Comas don’t work like that.”

Akira squeezed back. His voice was so quiet, but she could still hear it shake. “I want to still be here when I wake up.”

“Don’t worry. You will be. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot longer than I like to write. But the scene with Futaba fit with this chapter better than as an opening for the next one.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Futaba woke early and made her way to Leblanc. 

Something about Akira’s comments last night made her worried, and she wanted to make sure that Akira actually tried to get some sleep like he promised he would. She didn’t know what she would do if she entered Leblanc only to see Akira chugging coffee while simultaneously looking like he’d collapse at a moment’s notice. 

Maybe she’d knock him out in a sleeper hold and then drag him up to his bed. She could probably take Akira, if his back was turned. Sojiro would probably forgive her for it, too.

Futaba couldn’t lie to herself, that scenario had crossed through her mind multiple times during the night.

So Futaba was quite surprised to find that it was Akira tending to the shop this morning instead of Sojiro. And the Akira that looked up at her as she entered was bright and happy, clearly well rested. The big grin he gave her was enough to wipe away all her worries. 

Futaba was grinning herself as she sat down at the counter. “Well? Was I right, or was I right? You look so much better.”

“I _feel_ so much better. I never knew sleeping could be so enjoyable.” Akira said with a small shake of his head. “All this time, I thought that sleeping was just…” He paused, looking for the right thing to say. “Just a loss of control.”

“The hell does that mean?” Futaba asked, giving him a weird look.

“Forget I said that. It’s not that important.”

Akira quickly poured Futaba and himself a cup of coffee, and the two playfully clinked cups before taking a sip. Futaba let out a happy hum. Akira’s coffee was getting really good. Almost as good as Sojiro’s.

“So? What are your plans for the day?” Futaba asked after she finished her cup.

Akira was grinning like an eager puppy again, pulling out his phone. “I already texted Ryuji this morning to see if he wants to hang out today. But he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Eh. Ryuji seems like the kind of guy who likes to sleep in when he can.” Futaba said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Give him a couple more hours before we start panicking.”

Akira silently nodded at that in agreement, but there was a small quirk of his mouth that told Futaba he couldn’t stop from worrying. He turned away from her and headed into the kitchen, preparing her a plate of hot, fresh curry for breakfast. Good thing too, because her stomach was rumbling.

Akira set the plate down in front of her, and Futaba finally asked. “Hey, where’s Sojiro? Doesn’t he usually only ask for your help at night?”

Akira shrugged as he leaned into the counter. “Don’t know. He wasn’t here when I woke up.”

Come to think of it, Futaba hadn’t seen Sojiro this morning either.

“So you just decided to open up shop by yourself?” Futaba said between bites. 

“What else was I supposed to do?” Akira shrugged again. 

Akira then reached down below the counter, picking up a spoon from the spare silverware bin. He quickly stole a couple spoonfuls of curry, smirking when Futaba couldn’t stop him in time. No fair! Only _she_ was allowed to steal his food! She was younger than him; he had to be the mature one out of them. Wasn’t that how it worked?

“Hurry up and finish breakfast. I need your help picking out an outfit for today.” Akira said, completely cocky as he took another spoonful. 

“I’d eat faster if you stopped being a pain in my butt!” Futaba said as she successfully tore the spoon out of his hand. She held it close to her heart as she hurried to finish her curry before Akira could grab another spoon. “Jeez. You won’t be getting any tip today, Akira.”

Akira frowned. “You never tip me.”

Futaba would have replied with a _‘Duh, that’s the point’_ , but she was too busy stuffing her mouth with food. So she just settled with an obvious eye roll. Fortunately, she was able to eat the remainder of her breakfast in relative peace.

“Alright. Let’s go see what you’ve got, loverboy.” Futaba said as she hopped out of her seat. “But really, wouldn’t you want Ann for this? She’s got more fashion sense than the two of us combined.”

Akira looked surprised, as if he hadn’t thought of that. Futaba only had a second to gawk at him as he pulled out his phone again, already typing away at a message. 

_Hopeless. This boy is truly hopeless._

They started to head for the stairs, but were stopped when they heard Leblanc’s front door chime. Both kids stopped and turned around, surprised to see that it wasn’t a customer, but Sojiro. And immediately Futaba’s eagerness to help Akira today faltered as she took in Sojiro’s face. She hunched into herself and couldn’t stop herself from stepping behind Akira.

If Sojiro had been grumpy yesterday, then today the man was positively furious. Futaba couldn’t remember a time she had ever seen Sojiro this angry.

Sojiro never liked to raise his voice, especially when he was angry. It was a byproduct of when he had adopted her, as she had been a timid child after Mom died. Loud noises of any kind had terrified her.

So it was a silent anger. The sort of anger that you knew if you said or did the wrong thing, that unsteady calmness that hung around him would shatter. And the guessing game was figuring out what that was. But it seemed that Futaba didn’t have to worry about that, because Sojiro was already past his breaking point.

“Akira.” Sojiro’s voice was unusually steady and low, but that only further confirmed how furious he was. “I just had a very…” Sojiro had trouble finding the right word, “ _interesting_ conversation with your mother.” 

Sojiro closed the door behind him. And then he locked it, flipping the sign from _Open_ to _Closed_. No chance of escaping now.

“Apparently, they spent all of yesterday expecting your phone call.” Sojiro continued, voice growing taut, words forced. Sojiro pulled off his glasses to clean them. A normal, everyday motion, but it felt far too forced. “And when they couldn’t wait any longer, they couldn’t even reach you. 

“And I just spent the better part of the morning trying to explain to them why that could be.”

Sojiro finally looked up at them, specifically at Akira. Futaba felt more than saw Akira’s body tense up under that glare. Futaba risked a glance and looked up at Akira; he was scowling back at Sojiro.

“So do me a favor, and _tell me why_ you thought it was a good idea to _block your parents?!_ ” Sojiro finally demanded, voice finally breaking into a shout.

Leblanc felt unnaturally quiet as Sojiro waited for an answer. Futaba wished she was somewhere else, anywhere else, right now. 

“I did it to prove a point.” Akira answered, voice just as poised, just as angry.

“And what point is that?” Sojiro asked, the question was pointed as he shook his head in disapproval. 

“That I don’t need them.”

Futaba couldn’t help but look at Akira when she heard that, and couldn't stop that confused expression from slipping on her face. But it looked like that response hadn’t surprised Sojiro one bit. All Sojiro did was frown deeper. 

“You’re being selfish.”

“What’s wrong with being selfish for once in my life?”

That question stopped Sojiro. He was baffled by it. Akira took that opening to continue, forcing the older man to listen to him.

“I’m done pretending that they give a damn about me. ” Akira continued, voice sharpened with a strange sense of confidence. There was a weight to his words, a power to them. “Why should I go on acting like everything is fine when _they’re_ the reason why things aren't. They don’t want me, and I don’t want them. It’s better this way; I don’t understand why you’re having such a hard time accepting that.”

“What I don’t understand is where this nonsense of yours is coming from, Akira! But I’ve had enough of it.” Sojiro said. “You’re clearly not thinking straight―”

“No. That’s where you’re wrong, Sojiro.” Akira interrupted Sojiro, his voice still strangely calm. But Futaba could still hear the undertones of anger that threatened to crack through his words. “For the first time in my life, I _am_ thinking. I am _free_ to think for myself without someone else deciding for me.”

“Well, unfortunately for your little tantrum, you can’t make this sort of decision. You’re still their child. They still have control over you. The more you fight me on this, the worse it's going to get for you.”

_“No one is going to control me ever again!”_

Akira’s shout rattled through Leblanc, sharp as a thunderclap. This was met with immediate silence. Sojiro looked at Akira, completely shocked. Futaba was as well. Akira _never_ yelled. He never argued back with anyone. He never got _this angry_. This was a completely different side to Akira that they’ve never seen before.

Futaba couldn’t help but reach out to him, grasping his shoulder. The muscles under her hand were tight; there was a heat to them that she hadn’t been expecting. He didn’t even react to her hold on him; he just continued to glare at Sojiro. It was a glare so intense that Futaba shivered under it. She couldn’t imagine how it felt to have it directed at her. 

And yet Sojiro didn’t falter.

“That’s it. I’m putting a stop to this nonsense.” Sojiro said, still visibly angry. “From this point on, you’re grounded.”

Akira flinched. “What?!”

“Until further notice, you’re confined to Leblanc, either helping me run the shop, or upstairs in your room. No visitors. Not even you, Futaba.” Sojiro stated. He finally looked at her, and his hard expression softened when he saw her unease. His next words were much softer, but there was still that hint of deep anger. “I _might_ consider lightening your punishment if you call your parents. But that won’t magically fix things.”

“You can’t be serious, Sojiro!”

“I’m very serious, Akira. I _did_ warn you yesterday. You only have yourself to blame.” Sojiro said. He paused, heaving out a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temples. “Until you get yourself under control, you’re under house arrest. End of discussion.”

Akira _growled._

Hearing such a deep, primal sound from him startled Futaba, who finally dropped her hold on his shoulder. For that second, Futaba forgot how to breathe during the unexpected spike of fear that took hold of her. 

Was it just her imagination or were _the shadows of Leblanc growing darker?_

Akira caught her movement from the corner of his eye, and his head snapped to look at her. Futaba didn’t like being under that intense glare, and despite herself, she let out a soft whimper. Immediately, Akira’s expression changed, losing all of that anger and heat. It morphed into regret, and Akira quickly turned away from her. 

Akira turned and fled up the stairs, away from Futaba and Sojiro.

And just like that, their confrontation was over.

Sojiro sighed. “Go home, Futaba. Give us some time to cool off.”

Futaba nodded, unsure if she could trust her voice. Her feet moved without her consent towards the front door, and she left Leblanc in a strange daze. 

She hadn’t even made it halfway home before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Akira: I’m sorry you saw that.
> 
> Akira: I’m sorry I scared you.
> 
> Akira: Please forgive me.
> 
> Akira: Don’t hate me. Please.

Akira was panicking; that much was clear. Futaba watched as those three dots next to his name flickered, telling her that he was still typing out several apologies, but then deleting them just as quickly. Futaba hesitated in replying, still unsure of what exactly happened back there. She was still in shock from seeing Akira _that_ angry.

> Futaba: I don’t hate you Akira. 
> 
> Futaba: But what Was That?
> 
> Futaba: You’ve never yelled at Sojiro before.
> 
> Akira: He’s never yelled at me before either.
> 
> Futaba: You should be apologizing to him, not me.
> 
> Futaba: And what was that about your parents?
> 
> Akira: I just don’t want to talk to them. 
> 
> Akira: All I want to do is have fun this summer and go on a date with Ryuji. But now I can’t even do that.
> 
> Akira: Everything is wrong and different and I don’t understand why.
> 
> Akira: What am I doing wrong?
> 
> Futaba: Hey, you’re panicking right now Akira. Calm down.

Akira fell quiet after that. Futaba waited for his reply, but none came. She hoped that meant that Akira was actually trying to calm down instead of panicking even moreso, shutting her off from him. Futaba hurried back home, feeling like she could do more to help if she were back in her room. 

But what could she do to help him? Futaba had taken her bugs out of Leblanc after last summer. And now she was cursing herself for that; if she could at least see how he was doing, she’d feel a bit more in control. 

The house was eerily quiet, but Futaba was strangely glad that she would be home alone for the day. She trudged up to her room, phone feeling hot and heavy in her hand. 

This was supposed to be a good day. But now it felt all weird and wrong.

Her phone buzzed again.

> Akira: Can you still help me pick out an outfit?

Futaba snorted in disbelief, shaking her head. This was the last thing he needed to be focusing on right now.

But Futaba understood how nice it felt to be in denial, too. How nice it was to have a friend to distract yourself with. That’s what Akira did for her all those years ago. So she sighed to herself as she responded to Akira’s message.

> Futaba: Sure. Send me a photo and I’ll tell you if I like it.
> 
> Akira: You’re a lifesaver.

Some time passed as Futaba waited for his response. With nothing to do, Futaba booted up her computer and started on one of her passion projects. The clickity clack of her keyboard almost covered up the vibration of her phone as Akira finally sent her a photo. 

Finally, she had been getting a bit impatient. Pushing away from her computer, Futaba opened her phone and tapped on the photo. 

Akira had taken the photo in his floor length mirror, accidentally covering half of his face with his poor selfie skills. But it did allow for Futaba to see the full outfit, even his shoes. The outfit itself was something that Futaba had seen before, as Akira never brought that many items with him during his stay. But there had been obvious care and consideration taken into account.

He was wearing a light colored button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to meet his elbows. Those were a pair of jeans that Futaba had definitely seen before, well worn in and comfortable. Akira wore his favorite watch and a pair of fancy shoes, the ones that he wore whenever Sojiro took them out somewhere fancy to eat. 

Overall, it looked nice. But it didn’t necessarily scream ‘yes this is a date, I want to date you’. _Good pick, Akira._ Maybe there was hope for him after all.

Futaba was already starting to type out a positive reply when something caught her attention. Some small detail that she hadn’t noticed at the first glance.

Frowning slightly, she zoomed in on Akira’s face.

It was still half obscured with his cell phone, but Futaba could see her friend giving the camera a happy smirk, teeth catching the light that filtered from the nearby window. He was looking at the camera app itself, and one of his eyes was hidden behind the phone. But the other one was visible, plain as day.

Akira’s eye was yellow.

* * *

Ryuji woke up that morning feeling like he didn’t want to deal with his problems. So he did what he did whenever it got that way: he ran.

Shujin Academy wasn’t technically supposed to be open during summer, but the track team had special leeway to use the fields if they wanted the practice. And damn, did Ryuji want it. So he got up earlier than usual, gathered his things, and headed for the trains before his Ma could even ask him what he had planned for the day.

No one else was there this morning. Good. That meant he didn’t have to talk to anyone. Ryuji could just run, and not think.

The slow burn of his lungs felt good. So did the sun against his skin, even as it started to get too hot as the day grew older. There was just something about being covered in sweat from a long, hard run that just felt nice. Like it was an award for some kind of accomplishment. 

But eventually Ryuji had to stop. Eventually the heat started to get to him, and he couldn’t overdo it without pulling something. He swept the sweat off of his brow as he stumbled off of the track field, content to feel the rush of air that flowed through his lungs, the rhythmic beating of his heart in his ears. It was familiar, calming even.

He panted his way towards the locker room, intent on taking a shower before switching into a set of clean clothes. And as he started the shower, as he started to get undressed, Ryuji felt his phone give off a buzz against his thigh. 

He was suddenly reminded of the text that had greeted him when he woke up. And any kind of relief he had just found was instantly washed away. Ryuji didn’t even look to see who texted him before he threw his phone down into the pile of dirty clothes and hopped into the cold shower. Leaning his head against the cold shower’s tiles as the water rushed down his shoulders and back, Ryuji let out a groan.

“Why the fuck is this my life?” He muttered into the shower stream. 

Ryuji didn’t have long to mope in the shower, however, because his phone started to ring. Which was strange, because he definitely set it to vibrate only. Ryuji frowned as he turned off the shower and hastily dried himself off. The phone was still ringing as he picked it up, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise when he read the caller’s ID. 

“What the hell does Futaba want?” Ryuji groaned to himself. There was a quick moment where he debated if he should deny the call (he was still a bit peeved at her, after all), but ultimately decided against it. Knowing her, she’d just try again. He accepted the call. “Yeah?”

 _“Where the hell have you been?!”_ Futaba demanded, voice loud enough for Ryuji to pull his phone away from his ear. _“I’ve been trying to reach you for the past twenty minutes!”_

“You do realize that I have a life outside of our friend group, right?” Ryuji groaned as he rubbed his head, trying to sooth his forming headache.

_“Oh, I honestly doubt that―”_

“Hey!”

 _“―but that’s not the point!”_ Futaba continued, completely ignoring his outcry. _“The point is that I need you here right now.”_

Oh no, that’s not gonna happen. “Look, Futaba. I’m not going to Leblanc today. I got plans.”

_“Are your plans just sitting in the locker room at school and moping? Because if that’s true, then that’s kind of embarrassing.”_

“H-how the hell do you know where I am?!”

 _“Details, schm-etails. It’s not that important.”_ Futaba said, sounding completely uninterested in where the conversation was turning. _“What_ is _important is you getting your butt over to Yongen-Jaya sometime this century. We need to talk about stuff.”_

“Hey. You’re not just gonna bully me into heading to Leblanc, alright? I said no. So whatever you’ve got plann―”

_“You were right about Akira.”_

Ryuji’s words died in his throat. His ears rang with what Futaba just said, shocking him slightly. 

“What?”

 _“I believe you. That thing you said that first night at the hospital. About Akira’s eyes. They were yellow just now in a photo. And I can tell that it wasn’t edited.”_ Futaba explained. _“And Akira’s been acting weird. I thought it was just him recovering from the coma, but―”_

“But now you know that that’s not it.” Ryuji finished. He let out a sigh, somehow feeling relieved that _finally_ someone believed him. Even if this wasn’t a thing he shouldn’t be relieved about. “It’s okay. I didn’t really notice until last night, during the movie.”

 _“Yeah, you freaking out last night makes a lot more sense now. Sorry about being angry at you.”_ Futaba paused, and Ryuji could hear her own stress filled sigh over the call. _“And sorry for being a horrible friend overall. I’ve been kinda shitty to you these past couple days.”_

“Apology accepted. Now what the hell are we going to do?”

That was the obvious question. They had to do something, but Ryuji was at a loss at what that was. He wasn’t that smart. But Ryuji couldn’t help but feel slightly optimistic now that he had Futaba on his side.

_“Well obviously we need to save Akira. But in order for us to do that, you need to tell me everything you remember. So come on over.”_

“Wait, shouldn’t we not go near Leblanc until we know more?” 

_“Akira’s grounded right now, so we wouldn’t be able to go to Leblanc if we wanted to. Come by my house. That’ll give us some privacy from both Akira and Sojiro._ ”

“Alright. I’m heading over right now.”

* * *

It felt strange going to Jongen-Yaya and not immediately head towards Leblanc. Like it was some big sin that Ryuji had committed, but he just ignored that strange feeling of betrayal as he passed by the cafe on his way to the Sakura household.

Futaba was waiting for him, and she quickly led him up to her room. She sat him down on her bed as she took her chair, eyes boring holes into him as she waited for him to finally spill his guts.

And for the first time since that awful day, Ryuji allowed himself to process everything. He told her everything. From what had happened, to how he had felt, to what he could remember Akira (or as he’s been calling the demon thing, Not Akira) telling him. All the while, Futaba sat there, quietly digesting every single word. She only asked a question twice the whole time, looking for clarification. It took them almost an hour to get through everything.

When he finally finished, she continued to sit there quietly; Ryuji could practically hear the gears turning in her head. Eventually, Futaba spoke up. “That still sounds unbelievable. If that strange world is real… it’s actually giving me goosebumps just thinking about it.”’

“Yeah, just be glad that you weren’t actually there.” Ryuji said with a grunt. “But what do you think? Do you think it’s actually a demon possessing Akira?”

“I mean, possibly? I’m just a hacker, Ryuji. I’m not an expert in the supernat― oh _fuck_ .” Suddenly Futaba jumped out of her chair, a manic look in her eyes. “I’m such an _idiot_ ; why didn’t I think about that earlier?!”

“Futaba, what the hell are you talking about?”

But instead of answering him, Futaba only grabbed his wrist and pulled him up off her bed. She led him out of her room and down the hall, only to stop when they reached the trap door above their heads. Futaba hopped to catch the trap door’s cord, but after she just barely managed to grasp it, Ryuji reached up and grabbed it for her. And then down came the ladder, unfolding and smacking into the floor in front of them with a loud thud.

Futaba pushed her way past Ryuji and climbed the ladder, disappearing from his line of sight. 

“Hey! Mind explaining why we’re going in your attic?” Ryuji asked, only half expecting her to answer. And when there was none, Ryuji just rolled the eyes and followed her.

The first thing Ryuji noticed was how small and dark the crawl space was. There were only two dim light bulbs above them; not nearly enough light to see both ends of the attic space. Ryuji was extra careful as he sat down on the floor of the attic, hyper alert to how close the low ceiling was to his head. Futaba herself was on her hands and knees as she tugged out stacked boxes among the disorganized mess. 

The second thing Ryuji noticed was the amount of dust that coated the place, and he couldn’t stop himself from sneezing a couple times. The more Futaba disturbed stuff, the more dust floated about like giant, gross snowflakes. In the back of his mind, Ryuji knew he would have to take another shower tonight.

Futaba was muttering to herself, still ignoring Ryuji. He could only barely hear her soft “no, not this one”, and “god, who organized this? It’s awful.” But eventually, she seemed to find what she was looking for, as a barely visible grin spread on her face. She placed the lid back on the storage box and pushed it towards Ryuji.

“There, I think that’s the one we need.” Futaba said, shuffling closer so they could both see it under one of the dim light bulbs.

“Okay? But what is it?” Ryuji asked.

“Well. It’s like I just said. I’m a hacker, not an expert in the supernatural.” Futaba said as she took off the box’s lid again. “But my mom was.”

Ryuji gave her a hard look, full of disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I am not _shitting you._ ” Futaba said with a huff, but nonetheless ignored him. “Mom was a leading expert in the paranormal, and she dedicated her life to proving its existence by scientific means. So if anyone has any idea what's happening right now, it’s Mom.”

Inside the box were stacks of journals and loose papers. Futaba and Ryuji pulled out some of what they could, and Ryuji flipped through a small notebook under the light. He couldn’t make out any of the stuff written down; the handwriting was sloppy and what was legible were pretty big technical terms. But there was one thing that kept getting mentioned; it was repeated multiple times. It didn’t take a genius to realize that it must be pretty important.

“The Planar Multiverse Theory? The hell does that even mean?” Ryuji said, scratching the back of his head.

Futaba looked up from the notebook she was bent over, giving him an odd look. “It’s the theory that other than our own world, there exists many parallel worlds which affect and shape ours. Have you ever played Wizards & Wyrms before?”

“Uh… no?” Ryuji had no clue what that even was.

“Okay, as soon as we fix Akira, we’re rectifying this travesty.” Futaba said with a sigh. 

She set her journal down and laid it out in front of Ryuji, turning it over so that he could read the notes. On one page was a diagram, with several geometric planes layered on top of one another. Futaba pointed at those. 

(Ryuji really hoped that the oncoming explanation wouldn’t involve math).

“But the Planar Multiverse Theory was my mom’s work.” Futaba started. “The way Mom explained it to me when I was a kid is that the universe is like a book. Our reality is just one page of many, stacked on top of one another. And pages are usually bound together by the spine of the book.

“Usually, we can usually only see and understand what’s written on our page. But the thing with pages in a book is that you don’t fit a whole story on a single page; the story bleeds the pages together. Does that make sense?”

“A little bit?” Ryuji said with a shrug. He had a feeling she was dumbing this down for him in a major way, and he was entirely grateful for that. “I think what you’re getting at is that that strange world was… uh, another page?”

“Exactly.” Futaba gave him a firm nod.

“But how did me and Akira get to that other page. And what does that have to do with that thing inside him?”

“I’m getting to that Ryuji. Mom’s work focused on trying to explain supernatural sightings. If we’re beings on one page, why can there be other beings on other pages? Spirits, angels, ghosts, _demons_? What if they’re actually real? And what if heaven, hell, and limbo weren’t just concepts in faith, but just the names for other pages?”

“And you didn’t think to bring this up until just now?!” Ryuji exclaimed. “That feels like something that should have popped up a lot earlier.”

“When would I have brought this up, Ryuji? Back at the hospital? I haven’t thought about Mom’s research since she was still alive.” Futaba said, irritation starting to bubble up again. But it disappeared as she continued. “And honestly… I didn’t really believe in Mom’s work. But if that other world was real, then…”

“…then what world did we go to? And what exactly is in Akira?” Ryuji finished. Because really, that was the whole question. What was in Akira, and how did they get it out of him? 

Futaba slammed the journal closed and tossed it to the side.

She rummaged through the box for a couple minutes, obviously searching for something she knew already existed. When Futaba finally found it, she let out a small ‘ _Aha!_ ’. She pulled out another journal. This one was obviously a lot older, with the paper starting to yellow at the edges, and it was a lot more disorganized. Most of it was entirely held together with paper clips and staples. 

She sat it down in front of him again.

“This is a list of every documented supernatural occurrence Mom could find and authenticate. It’s older than me. She’s had it since before she even met Sojiro.” Futaba said, tracing a finger against the cover. “It… it was her pride and joy. So there’s gotta be something in here that matches what’s happening with Akira.”

“So now we read?” Ryuji looked up at her, already grimacing.

“So now we read.” Futaba nodded.

Ryuji groaned.

In the end, Futaba ended up doing most of the reading. There wasn’t much room for the two of them to read through the thick journal at the same time. And despite what Futaba had said earlier about her not being an expert in the supernatural, she knew way more than Ryuji did. So eventually Ryuji resorted to lying down, becoming Futaba’s soundboard as she bounced off ideas and possible suspects. 

“Uh, how about this one? It looks promising.” Futaba finally said, voice perking up. Ryuji raised his head just enough to watch as she read her mother’s notes out loud. “Back in 2003 there was a girl, a Matsuo Miya in Kochi, who ended up taking a hit to the head during a baseball game, and when she woke up her parents noted how strange she was acting.”

“Can’t normal head injuries do that, though? Why’s it considered supernatural?” Ryuji asked, raising a brow in question.

“Yeah, but head injuries don’t spontaneously change the victim’s eye color.” Futaba said. Ryuji instantly sat up and scooted closer to her. “That caught your attention, huh? Yeah, Mom noticed that the Miya’s eyes were a vibrant yellow for about two weeks. It went away after the girl started acting normal again. And the kicker? She couldn’t remember anything that happened those two weeks.”

Futaba paused as she pulled something out of the journal. She handed it to Ryuji. It was a photograph of a young girl. Beside her was a man and a woman, their faces crossed out to protect their identities. But her own face was left untouched. And her eyes were that same eerie shade of yellow that Ryuji had seen back in that other world. Seeing it again sent a horrible shiver down Ryuji’s spine.

“What else does it say?” Ryuji forced himself to ask, and he pulled the journal closer to him. He started to skim the rough handwriting. Only to have his hand slapped at, and the journal taken away from him. “Hey!”

“Not much, which is disappointing.” Futaba said as she took the photo out of his hands and put it back. There was a long sigh as Futaba flipped through the section a couple more times. “Just that the parents claimed it was demonic possession and they are actively seeking help. There’s a mention about possible telekinesis, but Mom never witnessed it. The parents just claimed that Miya could move stuff without touching it.

“The thing in Akira could make fire in his hands.” Ryuji supplemented. “It might be able to do other magic stuff, too.”

“Mom wondered about that, too. But Mom’s notes are a bit sparse about other possible abilities Miya might have had. Really, the most notable thing here is that Mom was surprised about… oh jeez.”

“Jeez?”

Futaba was frowning, taking a moment to concentrate on reading. “This is one of the last notes in the journal, but it’s one of the earliest dates. I think… I think this was the case that jump started Mom’s fascination with the Planar Multiverse Theory. Most of her notes are about how Miya kept referencing another world and how she needed to escape it.”

A rock just settled in Ryuji’s stomach. “That’s… almost exactly the same thing that the monster in Akira kept talking about. Back there, in that other world.”

“Well, this doesn’t explain how you two got to that other world. But if Mom was right about this, it could definitely explain what's happening to Akira.” Futaba stopped, lost in thought. After a few seconds, she turned to catch Ryuji’s gaze, frowning slightly. “I don’t think we were that far off with our ‘demon possessed Akira’ theory.”

Ryuji didn’t like the sound of that. At all. _Holy shit. If this is real, then did I actually go to hell?_

“So, what now? Do we gotta find some kind of priest to do an exorcism?” 

“I don’t know. There’s nothing here that says that exorcisms are an authentic means of getting rid of demons.” Futaba said, frustrated. “Maybe? Possibly?”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Ryuji frowned. “What if all we manage to do is piss it off?”

Futaba didn’t respond right away. And when she did finally respond, she was looking at him, face somber but eyes determined. “You’re not gonna like this but… I think our best option might be confronting it.”

“What?! Didn’t you just hear me?!” Ryuji said, jumping slightly, only to smack the back of his head against the low ceiling. He let out a small curse as he rubbed the back of his head, soothing the pain, and continued. “I just said that we should do everything we can to _not_ piss it off!”

“What other options do we have, Ryuji?!” Futaba retorted. “Mom’s notes are only telling us so much. She never figured out how Miya broke free of the possession. Maybe… maybe we can convince it to give us Akira back?”

Ryuji snorted. “There’s no way in hell it’s going to do that. You didn’t see how angry it was back there.” 

“I have to believe that we can, Ryuji.” 

Ryuji couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this. “Ugh. Fine. Let’s go have a talk with it.”

They soon left the attic, with Futaba grabbing both of her mother’s journals and then shoving the box back into place. By the time they left the Sakura household, it was already late afternoon. Well they did spend at least a couple hours up there reading, so it shouldn’t have surprised Ryuji that most of the day already passed. 

And while they made their way to Leblanc, Futaba was already strategizing. “Alright. We can’t technically go in there because Sojiro grounded him. But, I have an idea.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Well, movie night was last night. And with you running away during the middle of it―”

“Hey, I didn’t run away! I made a… uh…”

“A tactical retreat?” Futaba supplemented with a knowing smirk.

“Sure. Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“Okay, well because of your ‘tactical retreat’, we can just say that you left something behind, and that you’re just stopping by to pick it up.” Futaba said. “Sojiro will probably let us up for a couple minutes. But any longer than that and he’ll get suspicious.”

“Just a couple of minutes? I hope you know what we’re doing.”

“Just let me do the talking and we’ll be fine.”

Leblanc was empty when they arrived. Everything seemed perfectly normal, save for an annoying stray cat that tried to follow them inside. Ryuji had to close the door right after they entered to keep the damn thing from darting inside. And when the two of them entered, they were greeted by a still grumpy Sojiro.

Sojiro gave them a hard look. “Futaba. I just told you that―”

“We’re just here to pick something up, Sojiro.” Futaba said quickly. “Ryuji forgot something last night and we need it for something later tonight.”

They waited as Sojiro thought this through. And then he sighed. “Alright. But make it quick.”

Ryuji and Futaba didn’t need any further encouragement. They made their way up the stairs. Ryuji allowed himself to stress the hell out for the last few seconds as they climbed the flight of stairs. And then he quickly braced himself for facing the thing inside of Akira.

Only to come up to find the attic completely empty, the window over his bed left wide open. Ryuji’s eyes met Futaba’s; they were both wearing identical expressions of panic.

Where the hell was Akira?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit rough. I ended up scrapping half of it, and then re-writing it. Oh well.
> 
> On a side note, I've finally started writing that other Persona fic I mentioned at the beginning of this. So the update schedule might change soon to bi-weekly. I'll have to see how I'm handling how much I write for which fic before I decide. I keep y'all updated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight content warning for street harassment in this chapter. Nothing major.

“Hey. Thanks for coming with me today. I know it was kinda short notice, but Shiho had to cancel on me, and I didn’t want to reschedule.” 

Makoto and Ann were slowly walking their way down the streets of Shibuya. They had just finished their business in the underground mall. In their hands were a pair of identical shopping bags containing their spoils of the day’s shopping spree. Their hands were nicely manicured, with a fresh coat of vibrant polish that popped with their outfits. For Ann, her hair was now sporting new highlights.

All in all. It had been a successful trip out in the town.

Makoto had thoroughly enjoyed it.

“No worries, Ann. It was nice to actually have a girl’s day out.” Makoto said with a kind smile. “I haven’t had a day like this in a long while.”

“We should totally do it again when Haru and Futaba are free.” Ann beamed. And then her eyes lit up with a new idea. “Hey, we should make this a recurring thing. Like, once or twice a month. It’ll be something to look forward to when school starts back up after break”

“You know what? I like that.” Makoto said, starting to grin.

“So what do you say; should we end on a high note and have dinner at the diner?” Ann asked.

“Sure. Why not? Sis is working late tonight anyways.”

Ann grew giddy, and she started listing off what she wanted to get this time around. The two girls picked up their pace, hurrying towards their destination. 

Yet before they could arrive, they stumbled into a familiar face. 

Ahead of them, staring up at Shibuya’s electronic billboards and skyscrapers like a wide eyed tourist, was Akira. He stood out amongst the crowds of people as they moved past him like a school of fish. Akira still wasn’t wearing his glasses, which struck Makoto as odd, but that way she could see the clear wonder that sparkled in his grey eyes. A faint smile was ghosting his lips.

He hadn’t spotted them yet, so Makoto called out to him. “Akira?”

Akira’s attention snapped to them, and they were both treated to a wide grin. Akira quickly made his way over to them, and before they could question what he had planned for Shibuya, he took them both into a large hug, squeezing them tightly.

All he said to them was a bright and cheerful “Hi.”

Ann chuckled, “Hey. It’s nice to see you too, you dork.”

“What are you doing here?” Makoto asked as she pulled away from his hug. “I thought you said you were spending the day with Ryuji?”

Akira’s grin dropped. “He never got back to me, so now I’m just wandering around.”

“So he just ditched you? Dick move, Ryuji.” Ann said with a sigh. “Well, Makoto and I were just about to get a bite to eat, and you’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Kira.” Makoto said. “We still haven’t had the time to formally welcome you back to Tokyo. Now’s as good a time as ever.”

Akira grinned again and he was quick to take them both into another group hug. Ann laughed as she accepted the hug. “Wow, look who’s all touchy-feely today. Something going on, Akira?”

“I’m just… really happy to see you guys.” Akira answered with a chuckle. He pulled away and then took Ann’s hand, starting to tug her after him. “Come on, let's go.”

“Well _someone’s_ eager.” Ann said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Let’s go this way, we should be able to avoid a lot of the summer crowds if we take the back alleys.”

Ann took the lead, but Akira hadn’t surrendered his hold on her. And Makoto wasn’t that far behind either, falling into step beside Akira. While they made their way towards Central Street, albeit in a roundabout way, Akira asked them how their day was going, and both girls were quick to answer him. 

This wasn’t the first time Makoto and Ann have traveled through the back ways through Shibuya. For the most part, it always was less crowded than the more commercial streets in the district. But sometimes that was a double edged sword. There were less crowds to navigate through, but sometimes that meant a greater chance of running into a less than desirable crowd in itself.

And Makoto knew that the one up ahead was one of those. 

Up ahead were a pack of boys, five of them, that were huddled around the outside of a corner store. They were perhaps a bit older in age than the three of them, most likely college aged. The wind blew from their direction, and with it carried the scene of smoke and nicotine. Immediately Makoto’s nose wrinkled in disgust. As they started to pass by them, Makoto could hear their rough, rowdy conversation begin to fall apart.

“Well, look at that, boys.” One said, immediately catching the attention of the others. He craned his neck, slowly looking over Ann in a way that Makoto instantly recognized as vulgar and predatory. It rubbed Makoto the wrong way. “It’s not often that something as beautiful as that comes around these corners.”

Another whistled in appreciation, and Makoto had to fight off the urge to scoff in disgust. Men. Ann herself didn’t look pleased, and she glared down at her feet as she continued on, if at a faster pace. Out of the corner of Makoto’s eyes, she could see Akira pull Ann closer to him, pulling an arm around her back. There was an intense look on Akira’s face as he carefully watched this pack of strange boys out of the corner of his eyes.

“Hey, where’s the fire, blondie?” Another spoke up, a dirty smirk on his face. He started to follow them, a pep in his step. “Don’t you know it’s summer? Stay a while and let’s get to know one another. It’ll be fun.”

Ann remained silent, her gaze up in front of her.

“Hey, did you hear me?” The strange boy continued, starting to sound aggravated. “Come on, don’t be a bitch.”

“Well, how about her friend? She ain’t hard on the eyes, either.” Another said, voice low but still loud enough to hear. “Kinda wish her hair was longer, though.”

Makoto’s cheeks reddened in anger, but she knew better than to turn around. But she could hear more footsteps joining theirs, and she shuddered when she realized that they were following them now. She couldn’t help but pull closer to Akira out of instinct. Together, they all started to speed up, intent on getting back to the more crowded space as soon as possible.

But Makoto’s gut was telling her that they wouldn’t be able to shake them. The footsteps behind them only picked up the pace as well. 

They started to walk through a back alley. Out through the other side, Makoto could just catch sight of the edge of Central Street. They were so close. If only they weren’t being followed.

From behind, another voice called out to them. Taunting them. “We can do this all day, ladies. So just make it easy on us all and give us a chance.”

“These sluts don’t know a good time even if it slapped them in the face.” One remarked, and that earned them a series of robust, rowdy laughs from his friends.

Ann and Makoto did their best to ignore the boys’ off-colored comments and remarks. This wasn’t the first time they had been treated by this sort of harassment from strange men their age, and sometimes much older than their age. Both girls were quick to shrug it off, intending to leave and get away as fast as possible. Somewhere safe. Hopefully their rude remarks and condescending laughter would disappear with the crowd in a couple minutes.

And they were about to do just that, but were stopped when they saw Akira suddenly stop in place. He was frowning, a strange glint in his grey eyes. Akira made no move to walk with them down the street, and away from any chance from a confrontation. Akira was unsettlingly quiet as he turned around and stared at the group of strange boys that had been following them. There was a strange sort of tension held in his shoulders that Makoto had ever seen in their friend before. 

And to their surprise, Akira pushed past them and made his way towards the group of still laughing boys. Ann’s quick and half stumbled words of warning fell on deaf ears, and Makoto wasn’t quite quick enough to catch his arm and stop him. Their laughter died down slightly as they noticed Akira approaching them. 

And then the leader of the pack, the eldest and definitely the one roughest around the edges, stepped up to meet Akira. 

Akira wasn’t a small guy by any means, but he was more tall and lean in stature than filled out. Ever since Makoto met him, he had been gangly with long, awkward limbs. And he had never been quite sure what to do with himself. 

The boy who stood before Akira (more man than boy in Makoto’s opinion, with that scraggly stubble on his chin) was his opposite in nearly every way. Large framed shoulders, squared chest; he was built solid and carried himself with a kind of confidence you build up from putting others down. He was barely a couple inches taller than Akira, and he smirked as if that should be a further point of intimidation. 

And yet Akira wasn’t fazed. 

“Aw, look at this little twig. ” The head punk started, still smirking. That earned the head honcho a couple laughs from those behind him. “What’re you gonna do, huh? Ask me to stop? Ask me to apologize to your girlfriends?”

Akira’s response was well spoken. It was even, betraying no emotion. “Just once. And I’m not asking.”

One of the large punk’s friends let out a condescending whistle in surprise. “He’s got guts. I give ‘em that, Takaji.”

“Yeah, but talking a big game won’t win him any awards.” The leader, apparently Takaji, responded as he turned to speak over his shoulder. “He’s just trying to impress his ladies. Am I right? Is that why you’re acting all tough? Get them all worried so they’ll give you somethin’ a little special later tonight?”

“My friends are more than capable of defending themselves. I’m just looking for a challenge.” Akira said with a slight tilt of his head, completely ignoring the easy bait.

Takaji’s smirk twitched into a frown. His hands clenched into fits by his sides, and his knuckles loudly cracked. There was a shift in his pose, one that Makoto didn’t like. “Now that’s a good and easy way of getting your face caved in.”

“ _I_ _f_ you can actually land a hit on me.”

Makoto stepped forward. “Kira. Stop this.”

They were in a back alley, away from the main crowd of people, but they were still in a very public place. Anyone could walk in on them at any moment and catch them in the middle of a physical confrontation. And then they would all get in trouble with the authorities. 

And she was afraid for Akira. Already her mind was processing the most likely scenario: Akira beaten to the ground within seconds, bleeding by their feet. Most likely unconscious and in need of _another_ trip to the hospital. Maybe even with a stab wound; Makoto wouldn’t put it past these punks to also have some sort of knife on them. 

Akira should know better than this. So why in the world was he egging them on?

“Nah. Don’t listen to your girlfriend. It’ll make things easier” Takaji said, with it coming out like a low rumble. “Maybe once I’m done with you, I’ll treat her like a real man should.”

Disgusting. Makoto wanted nothing more than to smack the asshole. But she knew better.

Akira didn’t. 

He raised his hands as he took a fighting stance. It wasn’t one that Makoto was familiar with, but the ease in which Akira fell into it told her that he wasn’t only confident with his odds, but had some kind of experience. She didn’t have long to think about it, however, as Takaji scowled and finally decided he had enough with Akira. 

Takaji threw the first punch.

And before Makoto could blink, there was a cry of surprise. And Takaji was on the ground, held with his hands pinned behind him by one of Akira’s own. Akira’s other hand was fisted in the punk’s hair, pulling his head up slightly so that they could look at one another. Akira was kneeling into him, knee resting against Takaji’s upper back. Takaji struggled against the pin, grunting and kicking at the ground. But Akira didn’t budge; his hold on the larger boy was too strong to break.

Akira spoke, voice strangely calm despite the unnerving smile on his face. “Now that wasn’t much of a challenge.”

“How the fuck?” Came a reply from behind him. 

And Makoto watched as Takaji’s crew of friends reacted to this turn of events. No longer were they smirking, getting joy out of the brewing conflict. They all wore identical expressions of disbelief, which morphed into anger. One moved too fast, and Makoto blanched as she spotted a gleam of metal against the afternoon sun. And there was the knife Makoto had been worried about.

Beside her Ann stiffened in fear, taking a half step back out of instinct. Makoto felt herself drop into a proper form, standing before Ann. It looked like all of her training in aikido was about to finally pay off, especially now when Makoto didn’t like Akira’s odds. One on one was nothing compared to one on five. Makoto just hoped that they could get out of this without any serious injuries.

“Watch out!” Ann shouted as the others approached Akira from behind. 

The knife wielder was making a jump for Akira while he had his back turned. And in the smoothest move Makoto had ever seen, Akira jumped off the ground and did a _backwards flip_ over the approaching thug, vaulting off of him as a makeshift springboard. Akira landed perfectly on his feet, not even so much as a stumble.

 _(Since when did Akira know gymnastics? Since when was Akira_ skilled _at gymnastics?)_

Before his opponent could even turn around, Akira had given him a few well placed jabs. And then Akira had him disarmed, the knife twirling between Akira’s fingers before he gripped the hilt. He was grinning, a manic look in his grey eyes as he ran the tip of his finger against the blade’s edge. 

“This is nice. Mind if I keep it?” Akira asked, voice cocky. And to further heckle his opponent, Akira gave him a sly wink.

Makoto didn’t know what did it, Akira’s crazed appearance or the fact that he was now the armed one, but the gang of thugs started to back off. At first, it was just a couple slow steps backwards. But then Takaji got up off the ground. His body was tense, but he made no move to try attacking Akira again. There was a confused look in his dark eyes, and then maybe even a hint of fear, which only made Akira grin wider. 

“ _Tch._ ” Takaji finally grunted out, glaring at Akira, and then at Makoto and Ann. Out of all of them, he was the one hesitating in his retreat, his pride keeping him rooted in place. “We better not see you here in these parts again. Or next time we won’t go easy on you.”

In response, Akira threw the knife in one swift, arcing motion. There were multiple cries out in surprise, with Takaji quickly bringing his arms around him to protect himself. With Makoto trying her hardest to yell at Akira to _stop this at once,_ but the words were unable to leave her mouth fast enough. The metal twinkled in the harsh sunlight as it left Akira’s grip.

There was the thunk of the knife finally hitting its mark. Makoto felt herself sigh in relief when she spotted the knife embedded into the far wall, into a discarded wooden bed frame that sat beside the nearby dumpster. No one moved as they stared at the offending knife. Takaji had been standing right before the dumpster, less than a foot to the left. Had Akira’s aim been off, that would have struck Takaji in the head.

Finally, Akira broke the silence. “The show’s over. Get out of here.”

Something about the way Akira said it made Makoto shiver. She watched, dumbfounded as the group of punks finally dispersed, fleeing back the way they came from, back to that little corner store. Akira gave a low chuckle before he walked over towards the embedded knife and pulled it out. His gaze roamed around the shape of the knife, and there was that manic look again.

Ann finally found her voice. “Akira. What the hell was that?”

Akira perked up and looked at them, surprised. As if he had forgotten that they were there. “It’s a knife?” He even held it up for her to see it.

“No. I mean―” Ann struggled to find the right words. “I mean that! With the jumping, and the knife throwing, and the fighting!”

“Pretty cool, right?” Akira smirked.

Makoto sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that. You could have gotten hurt―” here, Akira scoffed and rolled his eyes, “ _or_ someone could have seen us and called the police. And then we’d be involved in legal trouble.”

“Would you have preferred if I did nothing then, Koto?” Akira asked, the use of her nickname sounding wrong on his lips. The question was pointed, as if he was looking for another fight. Akira was twirling the knife again. “Those creeps would have continued to harass other women until they took it too far. Someone would have gotten hurt. At least now they’ll think twice about it in the future.”

“Maybe. But it wasn’t our place to get involved.” Makoto stated, giving him a disappointed look. “But we can’t change things now. The only thing we can do is get out of here before this comes back to bite us.”

Akira looked like he still didn’t agree with her completely, but he nodded his head nonetheless. In a flourish Akira tucked the knife into his jacket. He came over to them and hooked his arms around theirs, a happy smile on his face. With Akira leading them, they left the back alley. 

Ann, still confused and concerned, started up a tentative conversation with Akira. She didn’t want to sit in silence to process what she had just seen. But Makoto was the opposite. She walked in silence, not paying attention to their broken, awkward conversation as she thought. 

There was something off about Akira. Something that she hadn’t noticed right away. But now she couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he carried himself, how quick he was to show emotions. He was abrasive and touchy. This was nothing like the quiet, meek boy she grew up befriending. And there was something about his eyes…

Makoto couldn’t help but wonder if Ann saw it too. Or was she just imagining things? 

_(No. Her gut was never wrong.)_

There was a buzz in her pocket.

Makoto unlocked her phone, intending to ask the others if they had noticed anything off about him last night while she slept through the movie. And then Makoto noticed that she had gotten several missed messages. She also noticed that it wasn’t in their usual group chat. Someone had started a new chat.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Futaba: Has anyone seen Akira?
> 
> Futaba: This is super, super important.
> 
> Futaba: I need to find him pronto, guys. Top Priority Alpha.
> 
> Yusuke: I’ve been busy finishing my newest painting and haven’t left my studio all day, so no.
> 
> Makoto: Ann and I just ran into him in Shibuya. He wants to have dinner with us at the Central Street diner.
> 
> Futaba: Shit. 
> 
> Futaba: Okay. Ryuji and I are on our way. Don’t let him out of your sight.
> 
> Futaba: Also, be careful.
> 
> Makoto: Why?
> 
> Futaba: Something is very wrong with Akira.
> 
> Futaba: I’ll explain everything when we get there.

That was ominous. The way Futaba worded it made Makoto’s nerves flare up. _Something is very wrong with Akira._ If Makoto hadn’t just witnessed Akira acting strange and _violent_ just mere minutes ago, she wouldn’t have believed her friend. But now she knew Futaba was right, even if she didn’t know the reason why.

It just confirmed her own growing suspicions.

They reached the diner while Makoto was in her daze, and they were quickly seated in an open booth. She was too lost in her own observations to realize that a menu had been shoved into her hands, and now the waitress was waiting for her order. Makoto only came to when she realized that the waitress and Akira were watching her, the pause in the conversation growing uncomfortable. Makoto blinked and quickly read outloud the first options she could find on her menu.

If she stumbled over her words, no one seemed to notice.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Ann frowning at her phone, reading the messages she had missed on the way here. Very briefly, their eyes met, and Makoto could see the concern in Ann’s eyes. Makoto gave Ann a quick nod of her head. Yes, she’s read the messages too.

As the waitress departed with their orders, the tension at their table only began to worsen. When neither of the girls were willing to start up a conversation, and Akira could sense that something was suddenly off with them. 

“Are you two still upset about what happened back there?” Akira asked with a tilt of his head. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

He said that with a completely straight face, staring right at Makoto, unblinking. The fact that that was Akira’s first thought sent another shiver down Makoto’s spine. That thought hadn’t crossed Makoto’s mind at all. But now that’s all she could think about. 

_(He had carried the knife with a strange sort of confidence. He moved effortlessly, as if fighting was nothing more than a well-versed dance. There had been a strange sense of joy on his face as he avoided the other’s lunges.)_

_(Something is very wrong with Akira)_

“Of course not. You’re our friend.” Makoto said softly, paying close attention to see how he would respond. 

Akira smiled at that, eyes twinkling. And just as suddenly, the tension in the air dispersed. Makoto fought off the strong urge to sigh in relief. Even so, she couldn’t help but hyperfocus on Akira. She watched his every movement, looking for any clue as to why her friend was suddenly so… off.

“Yusuke? What are you doing here?” Ann suddenly asked.

Makoto snapped her head to face the entrance to the diner. And sure enough, there stood Yusuke, who was watching them. Specifically, he was watching Akira with a cautious, appraising eye. Like one would give for a wild animal. 

_Shit_. They had forgotten about Yusuke.

“I saw your messages, and if something is as wrong as the other’s made it out to be, I thought it would be appropriate for me to join as well.” Yusuke said as he made his way over and sat down in the open seat of the booth. 

“Messages? What messages?” Akira asked. He turned to face Makoto and Ann; the question was directed at them. Akira took his phone out of his pocket, frowning as he scrolled through the chat log. The look he gave Makoto was almost accusatory as he continued. “I haven’t gotten any new messages since last night.”

Makoto cursed Yusuke under her breath. The boy could be completely oblivious when he wanted to be, especially during the most inopportune time. 

“Uh, well. You see…” Makoto stumbled over half formed words as she tried to think of something to placate Akira. But all she accomplished was making Akira’s frown deepen. Those grey eyes of his started to darken, turning cold. “Here’s the thing―”

However, Makoto was saved from digging themselves deeper in this particular hole when the door to the diner chimed open again. And there was Futaba and Ryuji, the last to arrive. Both were panting hard as if they had just ran here from the train station. They probably did. Ryuji had a clear shine of sweat against his brow, and Futaba’s hair was frazzled and falling into her glasses. She clutched at a pair of books in her arms, and they heaved as she took deep, panting breaths. Both were looking equal parts fantic as they took in the scene before them. 

Akira jumped up from his seat in the booth, immediately forgetting about Ann, Makoto, and Yusuke. He made his way over towards Ryuji and Futaba, a happy skip in his step. And then Akira pulled Ryuji into a hug, a wide, happy smile on his face as if this was the first time he had seen Ryuji in months, instead of just last night. 

Makoto could just barely catch the conflicted expression that passed through Ryuji. 

“Ryuji!” Akira said through the hug. And there was something in the way that he said it that surprised Makoto. Some strange sense of elation that she had never expected to hear from Akira.

Ryuji’s own response was hesitant. “Uh. Hey, Akira.”

“Why didn’t you respond to my messages this morning?” Akira asked, finally pulling away from Ryuji, but not before taking the other boy’s hand in his. “I thought you were ignoring me.”

“I was, uh, doing something important.” Ryuji said, eyes quickly darting from Futaba to the others. Makoto could see the underlying panic just underneath those brown eyes.

“With Futaba?” Akira gave the girl a confused glance.

“I’ll explain everything. But I think we should sit down and have a talk.” Futaba grabbed Akira's elbow and started to drag him to the booth, who in turn was dragging Ryuji along with him. 

“Is that really a good idea? We’re around a lot of people.” Ryuji asked.

“It’s as good a place as any.” Futaba shrugged. “It’s probably the safest, too.”

_Safe?_

And so the others joined them at the booth. Akira sat down first beside Ann. Ryuji looked like he was about to take the open seat beside Makoto and Yusuke, but Akira tugged him towards him, down to the open spot beside him. So Ryuji hesitantly sat down next to Akira, leaving Futaba the open spot next to Yusuke. 

For the most part, the air at their table was tense, filled with unease. Everyone was seemingly waiting for someone to speak up first, preferably either Ryuji or Futaba since they seemed to know something. But they were only capable of giving each other confused looks. The only one who didn’t seem to notice it was Akira, who was smiling pleasantly as he held Ryuji’s hand in his, running a finger over the other boy’s knuckles softly. And Akira was leaning into Ryuji in a way that Makoto could only describe as… affectionately?

_What was going on?_

Despite Futaba saying that she’d explain everything, nothing came. She only stared at Akira, her face betraying no emotion, save for the fact that she was clearly and intently watching everything Akira was doing. Everything about Futaba in that moment was calculative. Makoto could just barely see Futaba clench at the pair of books she still had in her arms. 

So the table booth was left in a silence that started to drag on. 

But then it looked like everything was finally starting to click together in Akira’s mind. From the missed texts, to Yusuke’s abrupt appearance, to how strange they were all starting to act around him. Akira’s attention shifted off of Ryuji’s hand in his, and back onto the others. That strained smile that he had been wearing finally fell. 

“Guys? What’s going on?” Akira finally asked.

That seemed to finally spur Futaba, who cleared her throat. “Actually, we’re the ones who should be asking you that.”

Akira was clearly confused. “Okay? What do you mean?”

“First, I want you to stop pretending to be Akira. Because I know you’re _not_.” Futaba said with such resoluteness to it that Makoto didn’t want to question it, even if it sounded like complete nonsense. Futaba turned to look at the others, suddenly grim. “Ryuji was right.”

Before Makoto could even ask _‘right about what?’_ , Futaba placed the journals down on the table. It smacked loudly against the tabletop, and Mokoto jumped slightly. So did the others. Futaba flipped through the pages until she found what she wanted, and then she shoved the book towards Akira.

“I don’t know how, but I _do know_ that you’re just a demon that’s possessing Akira. You’re just pretending to be Akira.” Futaba’s voice was growing emotional, angry. She stood up so she could lean over the table, slamming her hands down on the surface. She even pointed at the page. “So stop trying to fool us!”

Makoto felt herself shiver as she took in Futaba’s words. Immediately, she thought back to that conversation she had over video chat. Back when Akira was in the hospital. Back when Futaba was upset that Ryuji would lie to her about… 

… about how Akira was attacked by a monster. 

Makoto still didn’t want to believe it. But she didn’t know what to believe. Not after today.

Akira stared at the open journal, eyes skimming through the sloppy handwriting. Makoto watched as a deep frown formed. And then Akira turned to look at Futaba, a hurt look on his face. And then he quickly looked at everyone else: Yusuke, Makoto, Ann, and then finally Ryuji. And the faces that greeted him were cautious, distrustful.

Akira’s hold on Ryuji’s hand went slack, and the other boy was quick to pull away.

Akira started to speak, looking at the girl with wide, confused eyes. “Futaba―”

“No! You don’t deserve to use my name!” Futaba was shaking.

That had silenced Akira. And he even recoiled as if he had been smacked by Futaba’s words. In the silence that surrounded them, Makoto watched as several emotions passed through Akira’s eyes. Akira turned to look at Ryuji, and Ryuji kept his eyes down on the table, trying his hardest to not make eye contact. And then Makoto watched as something inside Akira finally settled into place. 

Finally, Akira spoke. His words were a plea; so quiet they were almost a silent whisper. “Why couldn’t you just let me have this?”

Makoto sucked in a sharp gasp. He wasn’t even trying to refute it.

And then Akira blinked.

Akira’s grey eyes were gone. They were replaced by a piercing yellow that was so unnatural. Alien. Makoto shivered as if the temperature suddenly dropped, and it was a shiver that everyone else shared. 

Akira leaned forward, bringing both elbows on the table as he threaded his hands together. He observed them, those yellow eyes of his were completely captivating. And that hurtful look was replaced with one that Makoto couldn’t quite place. It was somewhere between amusement… and regret.

“I guess this leads us to another question.” Akira started, his words sending another shiver down Makoto’s spine. And despite everything, his mouth twitched into a playful smile. His head tilted slightly to the side. “What are we going to do now, now that you know the truth?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems I am incapable of ending a chapter without a cliff hanger. *Shrugs*. But again, this felt like a good spot to end it before we get knee deep back into lore/plot explanations. 
> 
> Also quick update about the schedule for this. I will be changing updates to bi-weekly so I can focus on other Persona fics I want to write (that I am writing, slowly but surely), while also trying to avoid burnout.


	8. Chapter 8

Futaba was the first to recover. And she was quick to demand one thing.

“Where’s Akira?!”

No one else could speak yet; they were still trying to recover from those yellow eyes. Those same yellow eyes that were still flickering from one face to another, never staying on one for too long. It felt like they could pierce right through their souls, right down to their deepest fears and desires. It was deeply unsettling.

“Which one?” The demon asked, tilting their head as they smiled. Their tone was completely calm and even, compared to Futaba’s rising voice. Everyone there had the distinct impression that the demon was toying with them.

“What Ak― _Our Akira_. The one you’re possessing!” Futaba stated, getting angry.

“He’s taking his turn sleeping.” The demon finally answered with a noncommittal wave of their hand. “I’m in control until I decide to wake him up.”

“Then wake him up!” Futaba demanded.

“No. I don’t want to.” 

“Are you hurting him?” Ann asked, finally finding her own voice and cutting in before Futaba could continue shouting at the demon. They were all starting to draw attention with Futaba’s current volume, both from the staff and the other patrons. The last thing they needed was to get thrown out of the diner before they could find their answers. 

Ann continued, voice much softer compared to Futaba’s. “Please. Just let us know if you’re hurting Akira.”

The demon shook their head. Their voice matched Ann’s; soft and somehow genuine. “No, Ann. He’s perfectly safe. Like I said, he’s just sleeping.”

Before someone else could speak over him, Yusuke started thinking out loud. “Wait. By sleeping, do you mean…” Yusuke frowned at that. And then his eyes widened with shock, with some sort of revelation. He glanced at his friends, speaking to them more than the demon in front of him. “Perhaps Akira never completely recovered from his coma. What if he’s still in it?”

Futaba’s eyes darkened at that train of thought. “If that’s the case, then it’s just using Akira like a stolen puppet.”

“Hey.” The demon said, frowning. “That’s not very nice.”

“But is it true?” Futaba asked, or rather demanded. She was still giving the demon that hard, angry look.

“It’s not technically stealing if it’s my own body. I don’t see how you’re all having a hard time understanding this.”

“But it _isn’t_ your body.” Ryuji said, still still having trouble meeting the demon’s gaze. “I saw you take it from Akira.”

“This body has _always_ been mine. I can’t steal something that belongs to me!”

“Wait. Everybody just calm down.” Makoto finally spoke up, finally out of her stupefied daze. Good thing too, as it seemed the demon was starting to get agitated with that other line of questioning. No one wanted to see what would happen if this thing got angry with them. “We still don’t know what you are, exactly.”

The demon heaved out a stressed sigh as they answered. “Like I’ve said before. Many times. I’m Akira.”

“No, we just spent the past 10 minutes establishing that you _aren’t_ Akira.” Yusuke argued. “Don’t try to fool us.”

“I’m not lying. I haven’t lied to you, _any_ of you. Not once since I’ve woken up.” The demon said, sounding slightly offended. The demon paused, as if trying to find the correct words. “I _am_ Akira. And Akira is me. We are one in the same; I cannot exist without him, and he without me.” 

There was no immediate rebuke from any of them. The demon’s words hung in the air as it allowed for them to mentally stew on it. The whole group of friends turned to look at Futaba. Out of everyone, she’d probably be able to find the answer through all of the demon’s cryptic nonsense it kept spouting.

“What are you even saying? That you’re some sort of… alternate version of Akira from this other world?” Futaba asked, stumbling over words as half-formed theories buzzed in her mind. She pointed back down to the journal on the tabletop, pausing to scan over the text again. She then whined, “How does that even work?”

“That’s a question for something older and much more powerful than me.” The demon answered with a noncommittal shrug and a frown. “But He’s not privy to giving out answers. At least ones that aren’t spoken in riddles.”

Ann frowned, still very much confused. “So, if you’re telling us the truth―”

“Which I _am._ ”

“―you’re Akira? But you’re also a demon?”

“Sure. If that’s what you’d like to call me.”

Ann groaned, and her next words were a mutter. “That doesn’t make any sense…”

“Does it have to make sense?” The demon asked with another noncommittal shrug.

“Yes, it does!” Futaba practically shouted at the demon, which earned her a few hushed warnings from the others.

The waitress suddenly returned with their orders. And with a deliberate blink, Akira’s eyes returned to their natural color. The demon gave the waitress a kind smile as they thanked her for the meal. At that moment, it would have been so easy to believe that this was the Akira they knew and loved. Makoto and Ann took their own meals with a little less grace, stumbling over their words. 

“Would any of your friends like to order now?” The waitress asked, completely oblivious to the uneasy tension at their table.

It was Yusuke who spoke, keeping his eyes on the demon. “... No thanks. We’re not hungry.”

With that, the waitress gave a short bow and then left to tend to the other patrons. Yet even with her gone, the demon’s eyes didn’t return to that eerie shade of yellow. None of them knew if that was comforting, or not. Or if they preferred it this way. Neither Makoto or Ann touched their food, letting it sit and grow cold. And the Demon seemed to pick up on that, avoiding it’s meal as well.

Ryuji, who had been mostly quiet this entire time, suddenly spoke up. “Did you try to kill me back there? In that other world?”

That seemed to be a slap in the face for the demon, as they visibly flinched at Ryuji’s words.

“What?! No! I saved your life back there!” The demon answered, clearly distressed. “If it wasn’t for me, the Reaper would have killed you for trespassing. _You’re welcome_ , by the way.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that. Not after what I saw you do to Akira.” Ryuji stated angrily.

The demon fell silent, mouth agape in shock. They looked _hurt_ by Ryuji’s choice of words. The demon took another good look at the others, only to see that they were all still looking at it with suspicion and distrust. And then it grew visibly frustrated. They sat up straighter in their seat, fingers digging into the wooden tabletop for an easy handhold.

“Would ‘Your Akira’ ever want to hurt you? Any of you?” The demon suddenly asked, a hint of rising anger in their voice.

Makoto met their eyes as she answered it. “No. Never.”

“Then why would I want to?” They asked, more rhetorical than anything. “Even if you can’t believe it, you’re my best friends.”

None of them had an answer for it. The demon allowed their silence to speak for itself, and they nodded to themselves silently despite being visibly upset. They let out a half broken sigh, and then they moved as if to finally stand up and walk away from them. But the demon stopped halfway through the motion.

There was one last thing it had to say for them.

“Demon, Shadow, whatever you chose to call me, it doesn’t change what I am.” The demon said, words coming out sharp. It was frustrated. It was angry. And yet it was still trying to speak calmly; but it’s emotions were starting to leak through the crumbling cracks of its mask. Tears were forming at the corner of its eyes. Angry, hurt tears. “You want the whole truth? Here it is:

“Every thought that Akira has ever had and chosen to forget. Every impulse he’s felt whether he wanted to or not. Every desire and wish, even the ones he ultimately resents and denies, _that_ is what I am. _I am Akira_ _,_ at the most foundational principle. Whether you choose to accept that or not is not my problem.

“But if you choose to reject me, you choose to reject Akira.”

And with that, the demon stood up. Ryuji only had a second to scramble out of his seat and out of the way before it shifted past him. The demon was shaking their head, storming towards the exit. And then the group of friends had a brief moment of panic, and they wondered to themselves if this was the last time they would see their friend Akira.

If the demon disappeared with Akira’s body, they might not be able to find him again.

“Wait!”

It was Ann who called out to it.

And surprising everyone, the demon stopped. And slowly, the demon turned around to face them again. But they made no move to return to the booth. The demon’s face was a neutral mask, giving way to no emotions. That left them all in an uneasy standoff.

Ann took in a deep breath to calm herself, to collect her thoughts and her courage, and then she stood up. That seemed to surprise the demon, and it surprised it even more so when Ann walked right up to it. Ann was visibly uncomfortable, shifting on her feet, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest.

“If you’re really Akira, then tell me how we met.” Ann demanded, her voice holding steady despite her unease. “If you really were just using him as a puppet, you wouldn’t have his memories. Uh, I think, at least.”

The demon blinked at that. I looked like they hadn’t been expecting that train of thought. And then― 

“We met through Ryuji. You two were friends in middle school, and when I came to visit during summer, he kept inviting us to hang out together.” The demon said, slowly and calmly. Their eyes drifted onto Ryuji as he spoke, and then fell back to Ann. “For the longest time, you thought I was another classmate of yours that you couldn’t remember, and you were too embarrassed to talk to me. I thought the reason was because you didn’t like me.”

Even just hearing it again, Ann started to blush from embarrassment. She nodded along as they spoke. And that seemed to make the demon smile kindly at the memory.

“It wasn’t until after you asked me for help with your summer homework that you learned the truth.” The demon continued. “I still helped you with it, though. Didn’t I?”

And then the demon turned to look back at Yusuke. Without prompting, they continued. “Futaba and I first met you at that aquarium. You wanted to pet the rays and the starfish in the hands-on tank, and I accidentally pushed you in the tank when Futaba shoved me. Your sketchbook was ruined so Sojiro made us pa―”

“Pay for my replacement. I remember.” Yusuke finished, nodding his head. Yusuke’s words had lost some of its earlier edge. “Afterwards, we ended up getting ice cream together.”

The demon nodded, and it continued to wear that soft smile. It looked almost hopeful. And then the demon looked at Makoto. There was a spare beat in the conversation as Makoto waited for it to continue, both holding each other’s gazes. 

“Beep boop.”

Makoto immediately whined in embarrassment, and she covered her face with her hands. “You’re never going to let me live that down, aren’t you.”

He was smirking. “Nope.”

They waited expectantly for the demon to recount Akira’s first meeting with Ryuji. But other than a silent staring contest between the two of them, they didn’t speak up. And it seemed Ryuji didn’t want it to be retold, either. 

“Okay. Well… I think I want to believe you.” Ann was the first one to speak again, breaking the trance between the demon and Ryuji. That seemed to shock the others, but Ann only buckled down on her resolve. She puffed up her chest and gave a stiff nod, adding, “I don’t understand what’s going on at all, but I’ll believe you. You’re Akira.”

Ann offered her hand, and Akira was quick to take it. There had been no hesitation as he snatched her hand in his, and then gave it a tight squeeze. The speed startled Ann enough to jump, but she refused to let go. Ann looked up at Akira, and all she could see in those grey eyes was… hope.

(It was almost as if he had been the one to reach out, instead of her.)

She led them back to the table. Without waiting for anyone to allow it, Ann sat back down, leading Akira to sit down next to her. 

“So? What do we do now?” Yusuke asked everyone.

At this point, this was the only question left. And no one seemed able to answer it.

“Well, even if you are technically Akira, or a different version of him, you’re not supposed to be here.” Makoto said, finally breaking the tension. “ _Our_ Akira should be in this reality, and you belong in yours. Is there any way we can convince you to go back?”

Akira vehemently shook his head. “No. I just got here. I’m not going back.” He gave them all a pleading look, desperation clear in his eyes. “Can you please let me be your Akira? Give me some time to learn; you won’t even notice a difference.”

Makoto was already shaking her head. 

“We can’t do that. That wouldn’t be fair to our Akira.” And then Akira was opening his mouth, either to protest or to argue against her. But Makoto held up her hand, making him wait for her to finish. “Think of it like this. It took us a few days to learn about your true nature. Who’s to say that others won’t either? I’m sorry, but what you want… I don’t think it’s completely possible.”

“Think about it, Akira. You managed to piss off Sojiro on the first day you got out of the hospital.” Futaba pointed out. Like the others, her voice had lost some of the anger and hardness. But she had no intention of being soft on him, either. “He probably thinks that there’s something wrong with you. There’s no way he’ll know what and why, exactly. But he _knows_ you’re not acting normally.”

“But―”

“Akira. This version of you lacks any kind of impulse control.” Futaba continued. “That’s gonna land you in a lot of trouble eventually.”

Akira gave them a hard look. But he wasn’t outright denying it. “I’m not just going to give up. I want a chance to live, too.”

“Can we ask you why you’re so against going back to your own world so much? We might better understand your reasoning if you tell us.” Yusuke said.

And for the first time since the demon’s true nature was exposed, it was Akira who averted his gaze away from them. He looked down and onto his abandoned lunch. Already, he was shaking his head.

“What I am… I’m chained to the decisions that Akira makes. I’m a prisoner over in my world, always aware that there’s something _much better_ over here.” Akira said, speaking softly. “Can you all imagine a life where there’s someone else making all the choices? I have no control over what I want and desire. But now that I’m here, I can finally be myself.”

“So… we’re basically asking you to return to a life of imprisonment.” Yusuke sighed. In the quiet pause of the conversation, Akira nodded. Yusuke continued, voice somber. “But you’re also asking us to stand aside and allow our Akira to meet the same fate you wish to avoid.”

“No. We’re not gonna do that.” Ryuji said with a hard frown. “Akira doesn’t deserve that.”

“ _I_ don’t deserve that, either, Ryuji.” Akira said, giving the other boy a bitter look.

Ann spoke up. “Well? How about a compromise?”

Makoto frowned slightly. “What do you mean, Ann?”

“Well, you’re technically a demon, right?” Ann waited for Akira to nod before she continued. “And demons like to make deals. So let’s make a deal where everyone’s happy.”

Ryuji grumbled at that. “Ann. I don’t think there is a compromise we can make where everyone’s happy. This thing wants to be Akira, and it ain’t gonna budge on that.”

“Then how about a deadline?” Yusuke proposed. He then turned to Akira. “What if we allow you to act as our Akira for a certain amount of time? Would you be willing to wake up our Akira after then?”

Akira didn’t answer right away, deep in thought as he took in Yusuke’s words. “How long?”

“Well, it’d have to be before summer ends.” Yusuke continued, brainstorming out loud more than anything. “After that, you’ll have to go back to Inaba. With that amount of distance between us, we won’t be around to make sure you’ll hold up to your end of the bargain.”

Futaba quickly interjected. “A week. I’m willing to give you a week.”

“A week?!” Ryuji loudly exclaimed, only to be shushed by the others. They waited, risking glances at the other patrons to see if they had caught any unwanted attention. Ryuji hunched over and gave Futaba a glare. His words were a harsh, hushed whisper. “Futaba, a week is too damn long.”

Unsurprisingly, Akira was frowning as well, and he gave Ryuji another hard look. “No it isn’t. If anything, that’s not enough time.”

“You’ve already had two days as our Akira. Today and yesterday. So technically, we should only be giving you five more days.” Futaba said. “That’s more than enough.”

“Give me a full week. Today shouldn’t count because of this.” Akira said, motioning to the table they were all sitting at. Today had been awful for everyone, from start to finish.

“Six days, then. We didn’t notice anything suspicious during movie night. So you already got one day as Akira.” Futaba bargained. 

Again Akira fell quiet. He was deep in thought, before―

“You have a deal.”

Akira stuck out his hand, offering it to whoever would take it. Futaba gave him a stiff, determined nod before reaching out to take it. And yet, before she could, Akira pulled his hand away. Akira opened his mouth, letting it hang as he thought of something to say.

“I will agree to willingly give up my place in your reality in a week’s time.” Akira started, decidingly taking turns to look at the others in the eye. 

And there was a power with his words, making everyone at the booth hold their breath in anticipation. This was something that they shouldn’t make light of, and none of them dared to, either. Akira blinked, and those yellow eyes were back. Around them, the lights in the diner started to flicker before growing dim. But that might have just been their imagination.

“At sunrise on the 7th day, I will rescind my claim on this body. I will return to my world in my own form. My counterpart will be restored as well; unharmed and with no knowledge of what has transpired. _However,_ I will only do so under the conditions of which I set:” 

Here he paused to give them all stern looks. “You will all treat me as you would treat him. For this week, I am Akira. In name. In mind, in body. In bonds formed and shared. Only then will I accept this deal.”

Futaba took his hand and gave it a quick shake. “You have a deal, Akira.”

As soon as she said it, there was a quick flash of light. A small stream of blue fire danced across Akira’s arm and down to their clasped hands. It circled their hands playfully, and then it went up Futaba’s own arm. Futaba jumped from it, but was happily surprised that it didn’t burn her or her clothes. The blue flame dispersed as it reached her heart, and the lighting in the diner returned to normal. As did Akira’s eyes.

It’s done. No turning back now.

Akira removed his hand from Futaba’s. He was smiling softly, and there was a hint of eagerness behind his grey eyes. He took a long look at everyone at the table, barely recognizing that they were still recuperating from that display of supernatural power.

“So? What are we doing tonight?” Akira asked, already eager.

“Oh tonight? Tonight we’re going back to Leblanc.” Futaba pointed out. She stood up and grabbed Akira’s wrist. She started to pull on it, and she managed to drag Akira back out of the booth and onto his feet. “I don’t know if you remember, but Sojiro grounded you. So we need to get back before we both get into even more trouble.”

“Oh no. I am _not_ spending my week under house arrest.” Akira stated, frowning.

“Too bad, Akira. Maybe if you hadn’t pissed Sojiro off, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

* * *

> **Private IM:**
> 
> _Futaba started a new group chat_
> 
> _Futaba changed the group chat name to Demon-Sitters_
> 
> **Demon-Sitters:**
> 
> _Futaba added Yusuke, Makoto, Ryuji, Ann, and Haru to the group chat_
> 
> Futaba: Okay, finally got back home. It took some serious convincing to get Akira back in his room.
> 
> Futaba: He didn’t want to climb up the side of Leblanc. But I told him that was the easiest way Sojiro wouldn’t catch him sneaking out, and now we’re back in the clear.
> 
> Futaba: We should probably start making a game plan for this next week.
> 
> Haru: Wait? What?
> 
> Haru: What’s going on? What did I miss?
> 
> Ann: A lot, Haru. A Lot.
> 
> Yusuke: To put it simply, Akira is currently being possessed by a demonic version of himself.
> 
> Ryuji: Well, that’s one way to put it.
> 
> Haru: Is this a joke? Are you all feeling alright?
> 
> Makoto: I know it’s difficult to believe, but we’re not. 
> 
> Ann: Ryuji ended up being right about the monster that attacked them the other day.
> 
> Haru: For real?
> 
> Ryuji: Yeah. For real.
> 
> Ryuji: Why is it that the one thing I’m right about, I wish I wasn’t?
> 
> Ann: We can tell you everything when you get back home, Haru. 
> 
> Futaba: Until then, we need to watch over Akira and make sure he doesn't do anything to hurt himself, or freak out other people.
> 
> Futaba: Hence, new secret group chat.
> 
> Futaba: I suggest we each pick days to spend with Akira. Out of the six of us, this week should go by pretty quickly.
> 
> Ann: Do we want to do one person per day?
> 
> Makoto: It might be smarter if we do it in pairs. 
> 
> Makoto: After what happened before we all met at the diner, I think more supervision is better.
> 
> Ryuji: Wait. What happened before we met up with you?
> 
> Makoto: Akira got into a knife fight with some harassers.
> 
> Ann: No one was injured, but it was pretty scary at the moment.
> 
> Ryuji: Did he end up sprouting wings on you?
> 
> Futaba: WINGS?!
> 
> Futaba: UM, WAit Ryuji WINGS?
> 
> Futaba: Hold on, I’m gonna need some more details before we move forward.
> 
> Ryuji: Dude, this thing looks a lot more like a fucking monster in that other world.
> 
> Ryuji: It might look like Akira here, but if you saw it like I’ve seen it, you’d know that it’s not.
> 
> Yusuke: Can you describe it in detail? 
> 
> Ryuji: Why? Do you want to draw it?
> 
> Yusuke: Of course I do, Ryuji. 
> 
> Yusuke: This is a unique opportunity to capture something never seen before.
> 
> Ryuji: Maybe you should’ve been the one to go to that Hell World instead of me.
> 
> Yusuke: Perhaps I can convince Akira to take me there, then.
> 
> Ann: I really hope you’re joking.
> 
> Makoto: We’re getting off topic. This is a conversation for another time, guys. 
> 
> Makoto: We still need to decide who’s watching over Akira for the next week, and when.
> 
> Haru: I don’t know how I can help, but I’ll be back in Tokyo late tomorrow night. Just let me know when I’m needed!
> 
> Ann: Will do, Haru!
> 
> Futaba: I’ll take tomorrow. Akira’s still grounded, so I’ll have the easiest time out of all of us to keep an eye on him. 
> 
> Makoto: But Akira already snuck out once, so there’s a good chance he’ll do it again.
> 
> Futaba: Already ahead of you, Koto. I’ve placed a tracking bug on Akira’s phone, so I’ll know where he is at all times. And if Sojiro decides to unground him, I’ll let everyone know.
> 
> Futaba: So that just leaves 5 more days for you all to fight over.
> 
> Ann: Guys? I have a bad feeling this is gonna be a lot harder than we think it is.

* * *

By the time Ryuji finally returned home, he felt completely exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Suddenly, it occurred to Ryuji that maybe he shouldn’t have been pushing himself through the entire day, first with his brutal workout in the morning, and then helping Futaba with her research in the afternoon. And the confrontation at the diner had been completely nerve-wracking for him, even if it had turned out alright in the end. All things considered, at least.

The soreness in Ryuji’s bones was starting to feel normal after this hell of a week. Ryuji groaned as he felt the tension from today finally leave his shoulders. All he wanted to do in that moment was sleep for a solid 14 hours.

Ryuji stumbled his way through the apartment, haphazardly kicking off his shoes and immediately heading towards the fridge to grab a cold soda, and maybe a pack of instant ramen. Ryuji opened the fridge door, and he spotted his Ma’s post-it note on the freezer. 

Oh, Ma was taking the night shift tonight. She’d be home sometime around two in the morning. 

Well, at least Ryuji could collapse in bed without having to come up with an explanation for it, at least. Ryuji quickly heated up his instant ramen and practically inhaled it. As he ate, he felt his phone vibrate countless times as the new group chat continued to update. Ryuji didn’t pay too close attention to the group chat. It was mostly just Ann and Yusuke arguing over which day they would watch Akira. From a glance, it looked like Ann had a date planned with Shiho, and Yusuke had a due date for an exhibition he wanted to participate in.

So Ryuji just shrugged as he skimmed over the still incoming messages, and mostly ignored his phone. He had already claimed his day, closer to the end of the week. That meant Ryuji had a couple days to prepare for his next interactions with the demon. Akira. Whatever.

(Ryuji still wasn’t entirely convinced by it’s story. But as long as Akira came back like it promised, he’d be happy.)

Soon after Ryuji finished his quick and easy meal, he slipped into his room and shrugged on some pajamas. It felt like heaven when Ryuji crawled under his sheets and put his pillow over his head, blotting out the remaining daylight that streamed through his window. Even with the intense summer heat, Ryuji felt way too comfortable. He’ll be out in seconds.

Well, he would have been, if his phone hadn’t decided right then to vibrate against his ear.

Ryuji groaned. “Come on guys, just pick a damn day already, and let me sleep!”

He was about to mute the group chat, maybe even turn off his phone completely if they continued to argue into the night, when he noticed that it wasn’t the Demon-Sitters group chat that was blowing up his phone.

It was Akira.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Akira: Hey.
> 
> Akira: Can we talk?
> 
> Akira: I want to apologize. For a lot of things.
> 
> Akira: Please?

For a long moment, Ryuji just stared at those four little messages. He couldn’t bring his fingers to the screen to type out a response. This was the last thing he wanted to do tonight. Ryuji just wanted to pretend that this whole ordeal with the demon didn’t exist for the rest of the night. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

But if he played along with it, then Akira could come home, right?

And as long as it was only over the phone, Ryuji could deal with it. He could just… pretend that he was calling his friend. Just calling Akira. Yeah.

> Ryuji: Alright.
> 
> Ryuji: Just give me a couple seconds.

Ryuji forced himself out of bed, and he started to pace around his room. There was no way he was going to be able to do this if he didn’t get up and fight off his exhaustion. He rubbed his tired, dry eyes with one hand as he yawned. Ryuji’s phone felt heavy in his other hand, and he not-so-patiently waited for Akira to call.

A couple minutes passed, and Akira didn’t call him. 

Huh, maybe the demon got cold feet and bailed. That was fine for Ryuji. That just meant that he could―

“Hey, Ryuji?”

Akira’s voice was suddenly right next to him. It was _too damn close._ Ryuji jumped in his skin. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that something vaguely Akira-shaped was suddenly in his room, when just a moment before he was alone. Ryuji acted on his fight-or-flight instinct, and lunged at Akira while he let out a screech in fear. 

Ryuji’s fist didn’t connect with anything. There wasn’t even enough time to properly register _that_ , before Ryuji was suddenly pinned against his wall, both arms held against his back while his face was pressed against the wall. Ryuji’s phone fell out of his grip and bounced uselessly against the floor.

“Wha- what the fuck?” Ryuji groaned into his wall.

Suddenly, the arms that were pinning Ryuji pulled away. And then there were almost silent footfalls that moved away from Ryuji, over to the other side of his bedroom.

“Sorry, sorry! That was on instinct.” Akira’s voice called out to Ryuji. There was a moment of hesitation, and then a stressed sigh. “I’m making things worse, aren’t I?”

“How. _The hell,_ did you get in my room?!” Ryuji asked while he tried to steady his panicked heartbeat.

Sure enough, that was definitely Akira standing in the far corner of his bedroom, hugging the small space where the fading sunlight couldn’t quite reach. He stood there, looking completely out of place and unsure of what to do with himself. He refused to meet Ryuji’s gaze, instead looking down at his feet. In that moment he looked completely and entirely… Akira.

“I thought you said I could talk to you?” Akira answered Ryuji’s question with his own.

“I thought you meant over a phone call, dude!” Ryuji said as he slumped down onto his bed. Shit, he couldn’t take much more of this today. 

Akira continued to fidget in place. He motioned towards Ryuji’s window with a jab of his thumb. “I could leave, if you want.”

Ryuji was left completely gobsmacked at that offer. He couldn’t bring himself to answer Akira. Just… what was going on in this thing’s mind? Ryuji stared at Akira for a long moment, trying his hardest to calm his beating heart.

He already knew he was going to regret this, but Ryuji sighed and said, “It’s fine. You’re already here. Let’s talk.”

Akira looked relieved to hear that. He finally looked up and gave Ryuji a smile, but it fell when Ryuji wouldn’t return it. Instead, Ryuji gave him a wary, suspicious look. 

“So, uh… what did you want to talk about?” Ryuji asked. 

“I wanted to apologize. For what happened back in my world.”

“Uh… okay?” Ryuji was still skeptical.

“And I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I’m not― I’m not scared of you.”

It was an obvious lie, even without Ryuji tripping over his own damn words. Akira fought to stop the incredulous he gave the other teen, and he didn’t quite succeed. And to further prove a point, Akira started to step forwards. Each step was slow, methodical. He took one step, then another, and another, and―

Ryuji finally flinched by the time Akira made it to the center of his room. Within arm’s reach of him. Immediately, Akira stopped and returned to the relative safety of the far corner. He even seemed to tuck into himself, hunching over and trying to make himself seem as small as possible. But even after that, Akira didn’t break eye contact.

“I did this to you.” Akira said, his voice almost lost to the silent hum of Ryuji’s apartment. Ryuji could just barely hear it. But Ryuji could still pick out the self-loathing in his tone. “And I hate that I did it.”

Ryuji gave Akira a hard look, a single eyebrow raised in question. “Why are you apologizing? Is this some sort of ploy to make sure you stay here after your week’s up?”

“No! Not at all.” Akira was quick to refute that accusation. “I made a deal. And I don’t break my deals. Demon’s honor.” Akira paused to cross over his heart with a pointed finger. “I just… I really don’t want to spend this week with you hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.” 

And surprisingly, that was actually the truth. Ryuji didn’t hate him. There was a very short list of people that Ryuji actively hated. His drunk, deadbeat of a father was right on the top of it. And there’s no way that Akira would ever be listed anywhere near that asshole.

But that was also the crux of the problem. Ryuji was still struggling to believe that this was actually some version of his best friend. Even if this demon was telling the truth, even if he was part of Akira’s deepest, most hidden desires like he said he was, Ryuji had trouble seeing the person he’s known since childhood in the monster that stood in front of him. He couldn’t see where the lines between the two connected.

Every time Ryuji tried to, his mind kept on going back to that red-tinged World. And that just reminded Ryuji how he felt back there. Lonely and alone. Helpless and vulnerable.

With claws scraping at his skin, and sharp teeth grinning down at him.

“I’m just―"

“Afraid of me?”

And yeah, Ryuji had definitely felt afraid, too.

Finally, Ryuji nodded. This time he wouldn’t deny it. “Yeah. You, uh… you really scared me back there.”

It seemed like Ryuji’s words hurt Akira. But Akira took it in stride as he nodded along with Ryuji.

“Ryuji, please I need you to understand that I never wanted to scare you. Or hurt you.” Akira said. “And I’m really sorry that I did that to you. I’m really, _really_ sorry. I just… got a little too excited.”

Ryuji huffed out a short breath. “Well, that’s one way to put it.” He was still confused as to why Akira freakin’ kissed him. “Why were you so excited, anyway?”

Akira was quiet for a second. Ryuji could see the gears turning in his head, trying to come up with the easiest way to explain his reasoning.

And then he gave him an answer. “I know that it’s difficult to understand that I’m just another side of Akira. And I know I’m not exactly the nicest side, either. But back there in my world, that was also the first time I got to _be Akira._ That’s the first time I got to meet my best friend.”

That sounded just as lonely as Ryuji imagined it to be. Ryuji… actually felt kinda bad for the demon.

“Oh.” 

“Can we start over? Please?” Akira asked. “I’ll try not to mess up again.”

Ryuji didn’t know why he was saying this; some part of him wanted to stay angry at the demon, but, “Sure. Why not?”

Akira let out a loud exhale, and his shoulders sagged with relief. That smile was back, and his eyes twinkled with excitement. Akira stepped forward, finally out of the far corner of Ryuji’s bedroom. He moved slowly, as if still afraid that he’d spook Ryuji. But soon he was standing in front of Ryuji. Ryuji stood up, and took his own step towards Akira.

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” Akira started, with a sheepish smile. He gave Ryuji a small wave. “I’m the Akira that lives inside Akira’s head. It’s nice to finally meet you, Ryuji.”

Whatever Ryuji was about to say got stuck in his throat. Instead, Ryuji gave him a confused look and said. “Wait. You don’t actually live in his head, do you?”

Akira shrugged. “I’m a being shaped by Akira’s thoughts and feelings. I think it’s a safe bet that I don’t live in his left elbow.”

Ryuji couldn’t stop himself, he laughed at that display of Akira’s deadpan humor. It was just a quick, sharp bark of laughter that pierced the air for a split second. It surprised both of them, and they just stared at one another. And then Akira’s smile widened. He was positively beaming with joy.

And surprisingly, Ryuji was smiling too. 

Maybe this was Akira, after all.

“Well, uh. Hi. I’m Ryuji, Akira’s best friend.” Ryuji said, feeling tongue tied with that sudden realization.

He immediately grimaced when it came out weird and awkward. But to be fair, Ryuji never thought he’d have to introduce himself to a demonic version of his best friend. For some reason, this scenario had never crossed his mind before. 

Ryuji rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling nervous. Akira copied the movement, and again averted his eyes. There may have been a hint of a blush in Akira’s cheeks, but Ryuji chalked it up to the setting sun bathing his room in warm colors. And it was pretty hot in his room. Hell, Ryuji’s cheeks were probably a bit flushed at this point, too.

Ryuji continued, his voice growing more confident. “I guess that makes me your best friend, too.”

Ryuji stuck out a tentative hand, and after some deliberation Akira accepted it. 

And then Ryuji was pulled into a tight hug. 

It spooked Ryuji a little, but at this point Ryuji couldn’t help but think that that was just one of Akira’s weird demon quirks. Or maybe he’s still just a little jumpy from everything. But the longer that Ryuji was in that hug, the more he just realized that it was just a normal hug. It wasn’t too tight; it wasn’t restricting. Akira was just clinging to him, exactly like he would do if this was the first time he saw Ryuji after a year spent apart.

(Some part of Ryuji’s mind went back to that other world. To that dark, red-tinged world where monsters roamed and seemed to be always ready for a fight. There probably weren’t many opportunities for hugs over there.)

Slowly, Ryuji brought his own arms around Akira and accepted his hug. Akira seemed to melt into his hold. Akira grasped at the back of Ryuji’s shirt, looking for whatever handhold he could use to steady himself. In that moment, Akira was the vulnerable one out of the two of them.

This wasn’t something Ryuji should be afraid of.

“Hello, Akira.” Ryuji said against the silence of his room, finally accepting it.

“... Thank you.” Akira said softly. His words were muffled as he tucked his head next to the crook of Ryuji’s neck. But Ryuji could still hear that his friend was on the verge of tears. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

* * *

> **Demon-Sitters:**
> 
> Ryuji: So uh.
> 
> Ryuji: Fyi, Akira can definitely teleport or something.
> 
> Ryuji: So keeping an eye on him might be a bit harder than we thought.
> 
> _Several people are typing..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a monster to write and edit, considering the plot/lore it goes into, and length. It's definitely the longest one so far. Even so, I hope that this doesn't feel too rushed for an explanation. 
> 
> Also, I'm still going to go with a bi-weekly schedule from now on. The reason I'm posting this is because I just felt really guilty about leaving y'all like that with the last chapter. And this chapter felt better fitting for the change, because... we have reached the halfway point of this fic, plot-wise and thematically speaking! I have no idea if that means there's 8 more chapters after this; might be 5 more, might be 11 more depending on the pace. We'll also be starting to get into that "Fluff" tag that I put on this fic (finally). Hopefully there won't be anymore angst, lol.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for staying with me this far! I hope you'll like the rest of it.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning in Leblanc was quiet.

But tense.

Sojiro wouldn’t be surprised if he could cut through it with a knife.

Akira was still refusing to talk with Sojiro, only giving him half grunts and mumbles when Sojiro gave him his workload for the day. Other than that, Akira did his work in complete silence. Akira was even refusing to fully look at Sojiro, keeping his eyes either down at his feet or on his work. The only sound in all of Leblanc was the gentle hum from the television that played the local news, and the occasional customer that came in.

Sojiro was still fairly angry at the teen even after a whole day had passed since their big fight. The rational part of Sojiro knew that it wouldn’t be right to leave things like this for much longer. But Sojiro wasn’t ready yet. And Sojiro’s intuition told him that neither was Akira.

Sojiro was at a loss of what to do; he never had to deal with an angry Akira before. But he’ll have to do something soon, or else there might be a burnt bridge on the horizon.

And he didn’t want that.

Sojiro tried not to think about it too much, especially while they were open for business.

Morning turned into early afternoon. Once their latest customer finished their drink, the two were left again in that tense silence. The air felt charged, both Sojiro and Akira ready to spark an explosion at a moment’s notice. Sojiro needed some space, and Akira needed some air. Sojiro turned to look at the kitchen, and he found an opportunity for both.

“The trash is already starting to overflow.” Sojiro stated out loud. His words sounded sharp against the silence, harsher than he wanted them to be. “Akira, run it out to the dumpster in the back.”

With only a stiff nod of his head, Akira did as he was told. He tugged the trash out of the can and tied it up. And then he was out the door. And because Akira was still being a moody teenager, he swung the door open with far too much force, and it slammed after his feet, making the jars on the shelf clatter against one another. The door didn’t quite latch from the force, and it bounced back open. The sounds from the city outside began to seep in through the crack.

“Hey! Watch it!” Sojiro shouted at Akira’s retreating figure. He knew that Akira hadn’t heard him, and he let out an irritated sigh. “Damn kid.”

Sojiro’s fingers twitched. God, Sojiro needed a cigarette.

Outside, through the small crack in the door, Sojiro heard a loud cry of a stray cat. One that he was starting to get all too familiar with. Sojiro looked over to the door, and he saw the cat in question starting to paw at the door, trying to push it open despite its small size. The cat stopped when it realized Sojiro had caught it, and Sojiro was surprised to find himself locked into a staring contest with it.

There was something… unnerving about those deep blue eyes. 

But Sojiro shrugged it off and took a step towards the door, starting to wave both hands at it, shooing it away. “Hey, knock it off. There’s nothing in here for you.”

As if responding, the cat let out a meowl. And then it sat down on the welcome mat, defiantly and meticulously licking its paws. 

Sojiro grumbled to himself. At least it stopped trying to get in. He should just close the door before the cat could try again. But Akira should be on his way back by now. So instead, Sojiro picked up this morning's newspaper and started working on the daily crossword.

Sure enough, out of the corner of Sojiro’s eyes and through the cafe's window, he could spot the teen making his way back down the back alley. At least Akira didn’t decide to ditch his work. Akira wasn’t the kind of kid to do that, but Sojiro wasn’t about to put it past him. Ever since the hospital… Akira wasn't quite acting like himself. 

Akira made his way for the front door, but stopped when he realized that the space was already occupied by something small and fluffy. Sojiro fully expected Akira to shoo the cat away, so he didn’t pay as close attention as he should have to the frankly _baffling_ scene that was about to unfurl before him.

“Wait a minute...” Sojiro could hear Akira start, a hint of an amused smile in his voice. And that was enough for Sojiro’s attention to snap and shift away from his crossword and onto the teen outside. “Morgana, is that you?”

Sojiro’s interest perked up enough, and he glanced over just in time to catch Akira staring down at the cat. Sojiro shuffled behind the counter and closer towards the door, trying to get a better angle. And Sojiro could see that Akira _was_ smiling. Akira then bent down onto one knee and reached over towards the cat to pet it.

The cat let out one long, loud yowl, pulling away from Akira’s outstretched hand. Akira laughed at it.

Huh, maybe the kid had befriended that cat at some point this summer. That would explain why it kept trying to worm its way into Leblanc. Sojiro’ll have to have a talk with the teen about feeding the stray scraps. The last thing they needed was―

“Couldn’t find a willing human to latch onto, huh?” Akira’s voice was hard to hear through the crack in the door, against the sound of the city. But Sojiro could still make out the words well enough. 

Wait. _Human?_

What the... what a strange way of asking if a stray cat had found a new owner yet. And why in the world was Akira asking that _cat,_ of all things?

The cat meowed again, and it stood up enough to place its front paws down on Akira’s bent knee. The cat stared right up at Akira’s face as it continued to chatter at Akira. It was loud, noisy enough for Sojiro to hear through the door’s crack. How the hell was that thing so loud?

But the strangest thing was that Akira seemed to be _listening_ to the cat. Intently. Akira was frowning as he paid close attention to the cat, waiting for it to finish its tirade.

And then Akira said. “I’m not going back. Not yet, at least.”

Another meowl. Another _loud_ meowl. The cat twitched it’s tail angrily.

Akira frowned as he tapped the cat on the nose, making it stop mid-meow. It’s ears flattened against its head as it gave off a warning hiss.

“Now hold on, you didn’t let me finish.” Akira said, tapping the nose again, earning him another angry hiss. “I'm not causing any trouble; I’ve made a deal with the people over here.”

By this point, Sojiro had completely forgotten his crossword, and the television that droned in the background was nothing but white noise. He was far too busy watching Akira having a _full blown conversation_ with a stray cat. And from the looks of it, it wasn’t entirely one-sided. That in of itself was the strangest thing, and it left Sojiro dumbfounded, his brain short-circuiting.

All the while, that damn cat continued to yowl directly at Akira’s face. It’s blue eyes never left Akira’s.

Akira sighed as he rolled his eyes. “Yes, Morgana. I made a deal. Just for the week. That should fix everything, right?”

Immediately the cat started up again. And then it jumped up onto Akira’s shoulders. Akira jumped up and tried to catch a hold of the cat. And somehow, the cat kept managing to avoid Akira’s hands, dancing around Akira’s shoulders, claws digging into his shirt. When Akira stopped trying to grab it, the cat paused and meowed in his ear.

“You worry too much. The world’s not going to end just because I’m over here.”

Another meow.

“Hey. Hold up. He’s your Master, not mine. Last time I checked, I declined His offer.”

What the hell was Akira talking about? Had Akira lost his damn mind? 

Was Sojiro going crazy too?

“Are we done?” Akira asked the cat, finally sounding impatient. He had somehow finally wrangled the cat off of him and plopped it back on the ground. That only made the cat cry out louder, and it started to circle the teen’s legs. Akira shook his head. “Nope, not gonna happen. Now can I go? I need to get back to work before Sojiro gets angry with me. Well, _angrier_ with me.”

Akira let out another sigh as he finally opened the door. The cat rushed to enter Leblanc, to squeeze through the opening between Akira’s legs. But Akira was faster than the feline, and he managed to shut the door with the cat on the outside. That earned Akira another harsh yowl from the cat as it stood on its hind legs and pawed at the door’s glass, tapping it.

“Bye, Morgana.” Akira said over his shoulder, wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Making friends?” Sojiro found himself asking, because that’s all Sojiro could do at the moment. 

And surprisingly, Akira responded to him, if only slightly grumpily. “Morgana’s fine; he just worries too much sometimes.”

Sojiro gave Akira a raised eyebrow. “… Is that right?”

Akira only shrugged, and he returned to his station in the kitchen. The faucet started running, and Sojiro knew that Akira was back to his work cleaning dishes. Back to ignoring him. Sojiro sighed and decided to allow this to slide for the day. 

Sojiro caught movement by the door, and he saw the stray cat pacing along the welcome mat, occasionally looking inside Leblanc. The damn thing was stubborn as hell. Sojiro was quick to find a loose pad of paper and his pen, and he wrote a note down. 

_Welcome Customers. Please make sure the cat doesn’t follow you inside._

_―Thank You._

He taped the note to the door. And the cat paused in its pacing to seemingly read the posted note. The resulting look that the cat gave Sojiro… wait, was the cat actually _offended?_ Sojiro never knew that a cat could actually express betrayal so easily. Sojiro would almost feel bad for the thing, if this wasn’t his business he needed to run and keep cat hair free.

Sojiro shook those thoughts from his head. He must be going insane, imagining these things.

Sojiro returned to his crossword, ignoring that stray cat. Akira continued to clean dishes, refusing to even look at Sojiro. Leblanc was back in that tense silence that Sojiro hated so much. Some of the anger from earlier had faded away, allowing for Sojiro to think with a clearer head.

This couldn’t last much longer.

“You’re free to go, Akira.” Sojiro finally relented. “Go upstairs and work on your summer homework, why don’t you?”

Akira didn’t need to be told twice. Immediately the faucet was turned off, and Akira hung his apron on the hook on the wall. The kid was making the speediest retreat he could. 

And yet, just before Akira could head up the stairs, Sojiro called after him. “Are you going to call your parents now?”

Without missing a beat, Akira responded with a hard, “Nope,” popping the P, and then retreated to the attic.

And just like that, Sojiro’s anger from yesterday flickered back to life.

* * *

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Akira: I’m finally free from Sojiro. Does anyone want to do anything?
> 
> Futaba: Wait, Sojiro let you go? Did he unground you?
> 
> Akira: Nope. I’m just bored.
> 
> Futaba: You got lucky skipping out yesterday. Don’t push your luck too much.
> 
> Makoto: Futaba’s right. What are you going to do if Sojiro catches you?
> 
> Akira: Relax. He’s not going to catch me. 
> 
> Akira: Even if he does, I’m not staying in the attic. I only get one week to hang out with you guys, and I’m not wasting it.
> 
> Futaba: This is a bad idea. （；￣д￣）
> 
> Futaba: Whatever, I won’t be the one who gets in trouble. 
> 
> Futaba: Come on over to the house. I’m sure we can play video games or something. And it’s close enough in case you have to run back to Leblanc if you need to.
> 
> Akira: Thank you, Taba.
> 
> Akira: Anyone else free?
> 
> Ann: Sorry, I’m busy with a shoot today, but I should be free tomorrow, Akira!
> 
> Ryuji: I’m busy too. I’m doing things with my Ma on her day off.
> 
> Yusuke: Do you mind if I also come to visit?
> 
> Yusuke: There’s something I wanted to ask of you. And I think it would be best to do so in person.
> 
> Makoto: This better not be what I think it is, Yusuke.
> 
> Futaba: Ooh, you can almost hear Koto’s disappointment.
> 
> Akira: Wait. Am I missing something?
> 
> Futaba: Ignore them, Kira. It’s not important.
> 
> Yusuke: Can I still come over?
> 
> Futaba: Ugh, fine. Come on over, Inari. 

* * *

Had it not been for Ryuji’s warning last night about Akira’s newfound ability to teleport, Futaba wouldn’t have been prepared to deal with… this.

She had just been chilling in her room, working on some freelance projects she had been hired for. Her headphones were on high, blasting music. Half of her concentration was on her phone, specifically on the chat conversation still on screen, and the other half was on the code in front of her. 

Throughout the morning, Futaba had only occasionally glanced at a separate window she had tabbed open on her screen. That was Akira’s tracking bug. And for the most part, it told her that Akira was still stuck in Leblanc. 

But in this moment, that tabbed window gave her a soft ping, informing her that Akira had suddenly moved out of Leblanc’s perimeter. Futaba only had a second to wonder about where he had gone, disappeared to.

That was the only warning Futaba had before she felt something tap her shoulder.

 _“Aah!”_ Futaba cried out as she jumped out of her chair, knocking her headphones off of her head sending them clattering to the ground. 

Futaba’s heart felt like it was about to jump out of her throat. She wildly looked around her room. And there was Akira, who looked surprised at her reaction, with one hand reached out to her. As soon as Futaba realized that it was only Akira (a version of Akira who had freaking _demon powers_ ), she forced herself to try to breathe normally. In the end, she almost collapsed on herself, but decided to make a tactical move and sit down on the ground instead.

“Jeez! You almost killed me, Akira!” Futaba rasped out, shaking her head in disbelief.

Akira winced, but nonetheless copied her and sat down with her. “Sorry, sorry.”

“How about in the future you decide to send me a message before you sneak up on me?” Futaba offered once her heart started to beat at an acceptable pace again.

Akira only shrugged in response. “Yeah, that sounds fair.”

“Seriously, how do you even do that?!” Futaba asked.

Again, Akira shrugged. “Magic.”

Futaba groaned. “Ugh, I’m gonna have to put a bell on you or something if you keep doing this.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop.” Akira finally relented, raising both hands in surrender. But he was smiling playfully as he did so. “I’ll start walking around like a normal person.”

“You better, or eventually someone else is gonna see you and freak out.”

Even from her room, Futaba could hear a faint knock on their front door.

“Huh. That must be Yusuke.” Futaba said mostly to herself. Or it could be Sojiro, ready to bust them. But Futaba kept that thought to herself. “He got here a lot faster than I thought he would.”

Maybe Yusuke could suddenly teleport, too. She shuddered at that thought.

Futaba stood up and left to go fetch Yusuke, leaving Akira alone in her room. A few minutes later, she returned, with Yusuke close behind. And with Yusuke came a bag full of art supplies. Most notably, his favorite sketchbook and a set of his nicest pencils and charcoals. That in of itself wasn’t unusual; Yusuke almost always carried something to draw with, as inspiration could hit him at any moment.

What was unusual, however, was the way Yusuke’s eyes immediately drifted onto Akira as he entered Futaba’s bedroom. And they lingered on him with such a strange intensity. The kind of intensity whenever he discovered a worthy subject matter.

But it seemed only Futaba had noticed that look of his, because Akira only gave Yusuke a kind smile and a wave of hello.

“Hi, Yusuke. What did you want to talk about?” Akira asked as the other boy just stood in the doorway. “You said you had a question, right?”

“… It’s not necessarily a question. It’s more of a favor, actually.” Yusuke said as he finally stepped inside the bedroom. Again, he was clutching his bag of art supplies in a tight grip. It was clear that he was psyching himself up for something, and then Yusuke then bowed before them. “Please, allow me to paint your true form!”

Yusuke’s request was met with immediate silence.

“… My true form?” Akira asked, confusion thick in his voice.

“Oh, yes please!” Yusuke said with a nod, standing back up straight. “You’ve modeled for me before, Akira; think of this as nothing more than another session.”

“Wait. Who told you about my ‘true form’?” Akira further questioned, tilting his head slightly. 

Akira turned to give Futaba a questioning glance, looking for an answer from her. But Futaba couldn’t speak; she was too busy trying to hold in her boiling frustration at Yusuke. Back during their latest chat conversation, she had an inkling about what he had wanted to ask Akira. But she hadn’t been expecting Yusuke to be so up front about it.

Damn it, they were supposed to be treating this demon like Akira! If Yusuke’s curiosity broke their deal, they could lose their Akira forever. And she’d never forgive him for that.

But of course, Yusuke was too focused on his work to notice Futaba’s heated glare.

“Ryuji did, the other day.” Yusuke answered easily.

Yusuke started to set his art supplies down on top of Futaba’s bed. He didn’t wait for an answer from either Akira or Futaba, and just started to set out his supplies on the open surface, occasionally picking up a pencil and inspecting its sharpness. Apparently, Yusuke had also brought one of his art textbooks, and he flipped through it quickly. And then he held up the book for Akira to look at it. It was an old renaissance painting of an angel.

“He mentioned something about wings. Does it look anything like this?” Yusuke asked, still holding up the book for them to see. He then flipped to the next page, to another winged figure. But this time with bat-like wings. An obvious demon. He continued, still sounding incredibly enthused over this whole ordeal. “Or perhaps something like this, given your nature? Was Ryuji actually telling the truth?”

“Uh…” Akira still didn’t quite know how to answer; how to deal with Yusuke’s line of questioning. “It’s more like the other one, I guess.” He reached out and flipped the page back over.

That answer only seemed to further flame the spark in Yusuke’s eyes. “To actually study and paint a true winged figure…” Yusuke was practically breathless. He shook in excitement. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Please, Akira! I must paint you.” 

After some deliberation, Akira spoke up. “Alright. But we can’t do it here. We’ll have to go There.”

Futaba frowned, finally finding her voice. “Wait. There? You mean like, with a capital T?” Akira nodded. Futaba had an inkling about what he was talking about, but still she couldn’t stop herself from asking for further clarification. “Where’s… There?”

“Home.” 

Futaba couldn’t stop the shiver down her spine.

“Is that even a good idea?” Futaba further pressed.

“Nope.” Akira answered plainly. 

“Then let’s stay here.” Futaba quickly said. She started gathering Yusuke’s art supplies and shoved them back into his arms. Futaba continued, speaking over Yusuke’s growing protests. “Inari can leave, and we’ll just hang out and play video games for the rest of the day. Maybe even watch some Neo Featherman if you want, Akira.”

“Now hold on! I am not going anywhere, Futaba. Least of all back to Kosei.” Yusuke said, sounding agitated. He struggled to fight off Futaba’s quick hands, and he unceremoniously dumped his art supplies back onto her bed. “Akira said we could go, so we should go.”

Futaba was getting really frustrated now. “But it could be dangerous―”

“It is dangerous.” Akira interjected, yet neither of them heard him.

“Nonsense.” Yusuke humphed. “With Akira there with us, we should be perfectly safe. I have the utmost faith in him. Do you not trust him, Futaba?”

“Hey, don’t turn this around on me! You’re the one who wants to go to the demon world!”

“You know, Futaba.” Yusuke said, and there was something about his tone of voice that prematurely riled Futaba up. “The other day, you said that this other world was your mother’s life work, correct? This would be a great opportunity to see it for yourself, instead of relying on just what Ryuji or Akira tells you.”

As soon as those words left Yusuke’s mouth, Futaba knew exactly why he had been so insistent about visiting today. Exactly what he was trying to do. Yusuke was trying to tempt her. And damn it, it was _working._

Yusuke was staring at her expectantly, and there was a small twist of a smirk. He knew that he had piqued her interest. Futaba cursed him under her breath. _That damn sly fox._

“Urg! Fine! Let’s go. Just let me grab some things first.” Futaba finally relented, shrugging her shoulders in exasperation. What she wanted to do was chew out Yusuke for a little bit longer. Instead, Futaba settled with a short, “But you owe me for this, Inari.”

“That’s a conversation for another time.” Yusuke waved her off. “Let’s hurry. The more time we spend debating, the more we run out of good natural lighting.”

Futaba chose to ignore Yusuke as she rushed to find her journal, as well as her mother’s old work journal. Behind her, she could hear Yusuke organizing and packing his art supplies back into his bag, preparing to go on this unexpected adventure.

“Are you two really sure you want to go?” Akira asked, inserting himself back into the conversation.

“Yes.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Akira sighed. “Fine. I’ll take you there, but only if we can do something fun when we get back.”

“Deal.” Futaba said with a nod. “So? How do we get there?”

Akira smiled at her, and there was a small twinkle in his eyes. But there was still that hesitant look on his face. Despite agreeing to take them to that other world, it was clear that he didn’t want to go. Akira tried to hide it, but couldn’t quite manage it. 

Akira came over to Futaba and Yusuke, and then gently guided them both to sit down on the bed. Futaba and Yusuke sat down beside one another, with Futaba clutching her notebook tightly in her grip, with Yusuke holding his art bag in his. Both were quiet as they waited for Akira to do something. 

But he just stood there in front of them, staring at them.

Akira hesitated once again. “Last chance to back out.”

Futaba shook her head, but it was Yusuke who spoke up first. “No. I’d very much like to do this, Akira.”

“You can’t scare us away this easily!” Futaba half-shouted in agreement.

“Alright, then. Make sure you’re holding onto everything you want with you.” Akira said as he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you guys ready?”

They nodded.

Akira sighed, sounding tired. He blinked, and his eyes turned back to that eerie yellow. But this time, both Futaba and Yusuke were expecting it. Futaba didn’t look away from them; she wore a determined grin in excitement. Akira brought his hands up and gently pressed two fingers against their foreheads. 

And then Akira whispered something that made Futaba and Yusuke shiver collectively. They may have been words, but they clearly weren’t in japanese. Futaba certainly didn’t recognize them. 

There was a sudden pressure change in her room. Futaba’s ears felt like they were about to pop. And then Futaba fainted.

* * *

Futaba woke with a start, her head pounding with a killer headache. Immediately she was in a state of panic. Wherever she was, it was too dark, she couldn’t see _anything_ , and the air was damp and musty. Futaba’s breaths felt too weak and too fast, and her heart kept beating faster, and _faster―_

And suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder. 

Akira’s voice broke through her panic. “Easy, easy. I’m here, Taba. We’re safe for the moment.”

Immediately, Futaba caught sight of Akira’s glowing eyes against the pitch blackness, and it was enough to ground her back in reality. She let out a long sigh of relief. She brought a hand up to hold onto Akira’s, anything to help her calm down further. But Futaba had trouble finding where his hand was, as her fingers only came up against cold leather. 

“Akira? Are we here?” Futaba whispered against the darkness.

“Yeah. We’re here.”

“Why’s it so dark?” Futaba asked, shivering.

He gave her a soft chuckle. “I guess it’s always dark for humans. Ryuji couldn’t see anything, either.”

There was a finger snap, and then there was a small flame of blue light between the two of them. Futaba couldn’t help but jump slightly as it first sparked to light, but calmed right back down when she noticed that Akira was holding it in his free hand. Futaba kept her eyes on it for a long while, until her heartbeat felt normal again. 

And then she looked up. “ _Whoa_.”

Immediately she reached up to touch Akira’s face, which suddenly looked too thin, and then the collar of his jacket and the under vest he was suddenly wearing. Akira was patient with her as she explored it all. He was always so patient with her wandering curiosity. 

Futaba followed his outstretched arm and carefully picked up the hand that had been holding her shoulder. In the dim light she could see his hand, and she was surprised to see dark, long pointed claws instead of fingers. Futaba was hesitant before she took his hand and traced the claws, careful of the sharp points. 

“You’re taking this a lot better than Ryuji did.” Akira said, breaking the silence. Futaba caught sight of pointed teeth, and she gasped. Without properly thinking, she moved to hold his mouth open to inspect them. Again, he let her do what she wanted. Akira’s next words sounded garbled as he tried not to bite her fingers. “Yeah, a lo’ ‘etter tha’ Ryuji.”

“I’m a bit better prepared than Ryuji was at the time. Also, I’m definitely faster on the uptake than him. Not that I’m bragging about it.” She said as she finally dropped Akira’s head. She then poked him in the chest. “Hey, mind telling me what’s up with your clothes?” 

“What’s up with _your_ clothes?” Akira retorted, poking her back gently, and he smirked in amusement.

“Very funny, Kira. I’m being serious here. Is it a fashion choice, or are they, like, a part of you?” Futaba asked. She finally dropped her roaming hands, and her attention fell off of Akira and onto their surroundings. “Wait― are we in my room?”

Sure enough, this was her room. Or, at least Futaba thought it was her room. It was difficult to tell with the low lighting, and everything looked so de-saturated that it hurt Futaba’s eyes. She was sitting on her bed, Yusuke was still passed out beside her, and her desktop was there in the opposite corner. But the walls were dirty and plastered with scraps of paper, and there were black, moldy cracks in the plaster. 

With the light of the blue flame, Futaba spotted large black spots floating in the air. She really didn’t want to breathe that in, and she fought off the urge to cough at just the sight alone.

Honestly, it felt like Futaba was in some kind of nightmare.

“Kind of.” Akira answered with a small shrug. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here, Kira. So feel free to explain.”

“This world is directly connected and shaped by yours. Why wouldn’t there be a version of your room here?” Akira answered.

“I see… so it’s similar to how you’re connected to our reality’s version of Akira. Does this whole world work under that logic?” Akira nodded, and Futaba rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t hard to explain at all, Akira.”

Akira chuckled at that. “We should probably wake Yusuke up now.” 

“Yeah, good idea.”

It took some doing, but eventually they roused Yusuke from his sleep. Yusuke was still very dazed, clearly just as affected from the transition to this world as Futaba was. Almost immediately he went to grab his sketchbook. But it was with uncoordinated hands, and he looked like he was about to collapse on himself.

“Maybe you should wait until we get outside, Yusuke.” Akira said as he helped Yusuke up to his feet. And then Akira held onto him to help steady him.

By the light of Akira’s flame, he led them through this strange version of Futaba’s home. Futaba held on tight to Akira’s arm, carefully following him through the hall and down the stairs. Even Yusuke seemed to be standing closer than usual. 

If Futaba had been hoping that being outside would help her growing nerves, then she was disappointed. Ryuji had told her about the terrifying red sky, but hearing about it was completely different from seeing it for herself. 

It was unsettling to see her home neighborhood completely abandoned.

They walked through the back streets of Yongen-Jaya, stopping every time Yusuke fell behind. The scratch of his pencils against paper was loud against this world’s eerie silence. Futaba and Akira would stop and wait, watching Yusuke as he stared intently at whatever had captivated his interest. He was particularly interested on the rooftops, on the sky and the red storm that hung low and threatened to open up on them.

Eventually they stumbled upon an abandoned park. Just like Futaba’s home, the ground was covered in stray litter, and the plant life was dead, with no flowers or leaves. Just empty branches. It almost looked like it could be winter, if it wasn’t for the intense summer heat that was beating down on the three of them.

“Is this enough space for you to show us your true form, Akira?” Yusuke asked, yet his attention was still focused on the roofs of the buildings around them.

Akira slowly broke away from them, turning around to look at the space entirely. And then he finally nodded. It took him a moment to speak up. “Are you really sure you want to see it?”

Futaba didn’t know if it was the way Akira had said it, or that look he was giving them. Or maybe it was because of his continued hesitance (the _same_ hesitance he’s had since before they even came here), but she realized that something was wrong. Something was bothering him. And Futaba felt horrible for not realizing it sooner.

“You don’t want to show us, don’t you?” Futaba asked, voice quiet.

It took a moment, but then Akira shook his head. “I’d… rather not.”

The scratch on paper suddenly stopped. Yusuke looked up from his work. “I… I hadn’t realized my request was making you uncomfortable, Akira. I’m sorry.”

Akira didn’t respond. Instead he averted his gaze and held his hands in his pockets. 

“But why did you agree to take us here, then?” Yusuke continued.

“Because you wanted to come here.” Akira answered plainly. As if the answer should have been obvious to them.

“So you…” Futaba trailed off. She was frowning. She was confused. “You could have told us no.”

And then Akira frowned in confusion. “But I don’t want you to hate me.”

With those words, it suddenly clicked in Futaba’s mind. She could follow Akira’s line of reasoning, almost too easily. And with that realization came guilt. Futaba felt horrible. Akira had felt obligated to bring them here, because they had asked him to. Because he was scared of how they would have reacted if he said no.

Futaba’s mind went back to yesterday, to just after Akira’s big fight with Sojiro. _(Had it only been yesterday? It felt like forever ago.)_ How afterwards, Akira had almost been desperate for her forgiveness. How terrified he had been at the slightest sign that he had scared her away.

Akira was still terrified of that possibility.

It took her a couple moments to go through that entire thought process. Both her silence and Yusuke's seemed to discourage Akira even more so. 

“It’s a lot easier being Akira. Everyone already likes Akira.” Akira added, dropping his head down low, averting his eyes. He shook his head as he spoke. “You don’t like me.”

“But you said that you _were_ Akira.” Yusuke stated, giving Futaba a hesitant glance as he did so.

“I am. But I'm the side of Akira that Akira hates. Hating yourself tends to make you…” Akira paused, lifting up a hand, and he ran a claw over it. “… monstrous.”

“You hate yourself?” Futaba couldn’t get past that part.

Akira chose not to respond. But that in of itself was the only answer Futaba needed.

“Akira. This side of you isn’t a monster.” Futaba said softly, taking a step towards him.

And Futaba wasn’t just saying that, just to make him feel better. She _meant_ that. Despite not being ‘their Akira’, she saw enough these past couple days to know that this thing was Akira. Even before she knew what was going on, what he technically was, he still acted like her Akira. Her first friend. The closest thing she had to a brother. She still loved him.

Akira smiled, but it was sad. He didn’t believe her. “Thank you; I’ve learned how to hide it. Pretty convincing, isn’t it?” Again he looked down at his hands. “Couldn’t hide everything, though…”

Something hard and sad seized up in Futaba’s throat. She had dealt with self loathing before. Many years ago. She knew how horrible it felt. How isolating it could be. And Futaba wondered why she hadn’t recognized it in Akira before just now. If it hadn’t been for Akira’s demon, she probably wouldn’t have learned about it at all.

(If this world is shaped by their reality, if this Akira was shaped by how their Akira feels, then how could she fix this?)

Futaba spoke up. “Why do you feel like a monster?”

It looked like Akira didn’t want to answer her. But with a sigh, he relented.

“… Ryuji’s already scared of this side of me. I don’t want you to be, too.” Akira’s words were so soft, a whisper in the wind. Like he didn’t want them to hear him after all. 

Futaba felt Yusuke’s eyes on her, and she met his gaze without missing a beat. Yusuke wore a somber expression, and his mouth had quirked into a tight frown. It was impossible to know exactly what Yusuke was thinking, but Futaba hoped it was something along the same lines as her own thoughts. The two shared a knowing look, and then Futaba nodded.

Together, they stepped forward towards Akira.

“We won’t be. We promise.” Yusuke said, words soft and kind. Patient, even.

“You don’t have to show us what you really look like. Not if you don’t want to. But we’re here for you.” Futaba said, nodding along with Yusuke. “And if you want to go back home, we can do that, too.”

And then they took Akira into a hug. Akira hadn’t been expecting it, but he was quick to accept it. But he was still very careful with those claws of his. Still afraid that he would hurt them or scare them off. That only made Futaba cling to him tighter.

“Please don’t be scared of me.” Akira whispered. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

Futaba took his hand in hers and gave it a tight squeeze. She stared up at him, eyes filled with determination. 

“Never.” 

She didn't dare look away from Akira’s face. His cheeks were wet, and he was wearing a soft smile. But he still made no move to show them his true form. He looked conflicted at the thought alone. And Futaba was okay with that. She wouldn’t push him. Not unless he wanted to. Not unless he was ready.

“Now come on. Let’s head back home and get some ice cream.” Futaba said as she started to pull Akira and Yusuke along.

Ice cream made everything better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Observant readers might have noticed that Morgana had an unnamed cameo back at the end of chapter 6. Unfortunately for Morgana, he will only have cameos due to the nature of this fic.
> 
> Sorry about the delay. Real life got in the way of this update, but it's all good now! Expect Chapter 10 to be on schedule next time.


	10. Chapter 10

> **Demon Sitters:**
> 
> Futaba: One day down, 5 more to go.
> 
> Futaba: Yesterday was pretty chill too. All things considered.
> 
> Makoto: That’s certainly good to hear. Whenever you and Yusuke are left alone, things have a tendency to… happen.
> 
> Futaba: Hey, I resent that accusation.
> 
> Yusuke: For once I agree with Futaba.
> 
> Yusuke: But there’s nothing to fear, Makoto. The three of us spent the day getting ice cream together. Nothing more.
> 
> Ann: Well that’s good at least.
> 
> Makoto: Even so, have we decided who’s on watch for today?
> 
> Haru: I’ve already made plans with Akira, so I guess it’s me!
> 
> Ryuji: Seriously? You only just got back. How did you make plans already?
> 
> Haru: Akira texted me earlier this morning. He wanted to welcome me back. And that led to us making plans for the day.
> 
> Ann: Are you sure you can handle Akira by yourself? 
> 
> Ann: You haven’t seen him like this yet. 
> 
> Haru: I’m quite sure!
> 
> Haru: And perhaps going in knowing Akira’s full circumstances will help me get along with him. If he doesn’t need to pretend he’s a normal human, like you said he had been before, it might make things easier for both of us.
> 
> Ryuji: Okay. Well. Then you got this, Haru. 
> 
> Ann: But if things start to get overwhelming, don’t hesitate to contact one of us.
> 
> Haru: Have a little more faith in me, everyone.
> 
> Haru: I can handle Akira even at his worst. 

* * *

Haru didn’t quite know what to expect when she returned to Tokyo.

Her friends had certainly kept her in the loop. But there was only so much she could believe before everything became, frankly, unbelievable. Something that could only live within Haru’s nightmares.

And it were those thoughts that had kept Haru on her toes. During the long flight home from Hawaii, she couldn’t stop herself from imagining her return to Tokyo, and every likely scenario she’d be met with. 

If everyone was indeed telling the truth, then this was a demonic version of her friend. Perhaps it was only masquerading as the nice, quiet boy she met years ago. _‘Like a puppet’_ , the others once said, during that first night after they found out the truth. And that reminder made Haru shiver. Would it still wear Akira’s kind and gentle smile? But would it be far too sharp and toothy for Haru’s liking, far too inhuman? Would it have cold and fake eyes, too calculating?

And weren’t demons evil, horrible creatures? Would that make this new Akira evil too? 

Haru had dealt with monsters like that before. Would this be any different?

But then Akira sent her a text, asking her if she wanted to meet up for breakfast, or maybe if she needed help with her garden. And all of those horrible scenarios Haru envisioned disappeared in an instant.

Haru immediately felt guilty for even thinking like that. Hadn’t the others already told her that this was still their Akira? 

So Haru left her home early that morning with a pep in her step, determined to not let her imagination run wild again. And to treat Akira as he ought to be treated: as her friend. Haru focused on that frame of mind her entire journey to Shujin Academy. Akira should hopefully be meeting her there.

And if there had been any lingering doubts in Haru’s mind, they were instantly wiped away when she finally caught sight of Akira. He looked perfectly normal, still the same boy she befriended a couple years ago. Akira was waiting for her just outside Shujin’s gates, just like she had asked of him. He caught sight of her as she walked down the street, and then immediately gave Haru one of the widest smiles she’s ever seen him wear. Eyes sparkling with delight, there was no way this wasn’t her dear friend.

Akira met her halfway and took her in a tight hug. 

“Hi, Haru.” Akira started. “How was Hawaii?”

Haru gave him a kind smile. “It was fine, but I’m happy to be home now. Are you glad you’re back in Tokyo too, Akira-kun?”

He gave her a definite nod. “Yes.” And there was something about the way he said it that spoke of some deeper meaning. Something Haru could only glimpse at without fully understanding it. “I am.”

“I’m also glad you volunteered to help me today, Akira. You know, it’s only been a week since I’ve left, and I _know_ I left my garden in good condition.” Haru started as she pulled out the key to Shujin’s gate, the key Makoto had given her earlier this year. Haru unlocked the gate and ushered Akira to follow her inside. “But I couldn’t stop but worry the whole time.”

Akira nodded along with her words, and then he looked up to the cloudless sky. “We’ve been going through a drought.”

Haru nodded as well. “Exactly. So giving me a second set of hands to help today was very kind of you, Akira.”

Neither she nor Akira brought up his circumstances, his otherworldly nature. Neither of them needed to.

Haru led Akira through Shujin’s empty halls. The school was practically empty, as it should have been closed to everyone, save for some of the upper faculty and the cleaning staff. Most students didn’t have access to the school during the summer. To Haru’s knowledge, only she, Makoto, and a couple of the sports teams had that privilege. And it seemed that for today, they would be the only ones in all of Shujin. That made sneaking Akira into the building all the more easier.

Haru didn’t quite know what to expect when they finally reached the roof. But it seemed she expected something far worse than what she saw. Haru let out a sigh of relief as she took in her garden.

“It looks like everything is still in order.” Haru said with a smile, taking a moment to walk through the garden beds, eyeing each of her plants with a careful, observant eye. And then Haru saw something that made her drop that smile. “Hmmm, looks like the radishes didn’t make it.”

Akira didn’t say anything, just followed her around, waiting for her to give him a task.

“That’s disappointing. We’ll have to start a new batch of those.” Haru said out loud, yet it was mostly to herself. She turned to give Akira a look. “Akira-kun, can you go over to my tool box by the door? I should have a spare packet of seeds somewhere in there.”

He nodded and did what he was asked. While Akira rummaged through her tool box, Haru went and found her gardening apron, and mentally prepared the tasks they had before them. They’ll have to dig out the dried up vegetables and turn over the soil before they could reseed. And Haru didn’t know much fertilizer she had left; they’ll have to make do with what they have.

Akira returned and handed Haru the packet of seeds. “Thank you, Akira. Let’s water the other plants before we get into this. My spare watering can should be over there.”

The two spent the next 10 or so minutes watering the rest of Haru’s garden. Neither of them really spoke, and Haru was happy to find that it was a pleasant silence. The kind of silence that always accompanied her when she gardened. And judging by the few careful glances Haru made Akira’s way, he seemed to be enjoying it as well. 

Once they were done watering the other flower beds, Haru’s attention returned to the sad, limp radishes. They were quite dry, turning brown and mummified. Hopefully Haru could recycle them in her compost at home. That way they wouldn’t be a complete waste. 

“Alright.” Haru said as she started looking for her gardening tools. “I think we’re ready for this, now.”

“What’s the plan?” Akira asked. 

“Well, even with four hands, this will probably take up the rest of the morning.” Haru surmised. “But I’d like to dig up this flowerbed and reseed before we stop for the day, if that’s alright with you Akira?”

Akira was already nodding his head. “Let’s do it.”

Now that they were in agreement, Haru knelt down and started to dig out the dead radishes, a small hand rake in hand. Haru personally preferred to use her tools while in the dirt. But out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as Akira hesitated before he started turning through the soil with his bare hands. 

They worked in silence for a while, as Haru’s full attention was focused on the task at hand. And yet, at some point, Haru realized that Akira had stopped beside her. She turned to look at Akira, only to see that he was seemingly frozen in place. His eyes were almost glazed over as he stared at the dirt.

“Akira-kun? Are you alright?” Haru couldn’t help but speak up. She kept her eyes on him.

Her words seemed to finally snap him out of his daze. But still, Akira didn’t move from his spot over the flowerbed. Akira only moved to feel his dirt stained hands.

“I’m- I’m fine, Haru.” Akira said.

Haru frowned, and she decided to push a little more. Just a little bit. “You don’t sound fine to me. But if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t make you.”

Akira nodded at that, in thanks. Haru returned to her vegetables, expecting that to be the end of that conversation. But as soon as she had her back turned to him, Akira spoke up again, words almost lost to Tokyo’s ever constant hum.

“Sometimes I forget how this world feels real, all the time.”

Haru turned around again, and now she could see that Akira was cupping the damp earth in his hands. Haru couldn’t quite see Akira’s face, but she recognized the hunch of his shoulders, how it shook subtly despite how Akira was trying to hide it from her. Haru dropped her tool and moved to kneel beside Akira. 

Haru could see his eyes growing damp as he stared down at the soil.

Haru didn’t know what set him off, but it was clear that Akira was suddenly overwhelmed. Perhaps even dissociating. She was unsure of what to do, but she followed her intuition, and carefully folded Akira into her arms, pulling him away from the flowerbed they had been tending to. Haru felt it as he wrapped his arms around her; the loose, damp dirt that they’ve been working in was starting to soak through the back of her blouse. Haru couldn’t bring herself to care.

“You’re real, Akira. You’re here with my right now, aren’t you?” Haru asked, voice small.

Akira didn’t speak up, he just nodded his head. 

“We’re here together.” Haru’s words only seem to make Akira cling tighter. “We can stop working in the garden today, if you’d like, Akira.” Maybe it was the soil that had set him off… best to avoid it from now on.

But already, Akira was shaking his head. “No. I want to help you.”

“Are you sure? If you don’t like the feeling of the soil―”

Akira shook his head again. “No. That’s not it. I love it. It’s― I’ve never done this before.”

Haru frowned at that. “You’ve helped me with my gardening before, Akira.”

“ _He’s_ helped you. Not me.” Akira clarified, tapping his chest with his hand for further emphasis. And then he added. “I never thought I’d get to do this.”

This was the first time this morning that either of them had gotten close to this subject. Haru didn’t quite know what to say to that, so instead she nodded her head. 

“Okay then. We’ll continue, as long as you want to.” Haru said, appeasing Akira. But Haru knew that she would be keeping a closer eye on him for the remainder of their outing. Not knowing what else to do, Haru kept speaking, hoping that that would keep Akira grounded while they worked. “But let’s try to finish around noon, if we can. We can head back over to my place and have lunch as a treat. Some of the carrots and tomatoes look like they’re ready to be harvested.

“Oh, maybe we can use them in a stir fry! Have I told you that I’m trying to use my home grown vegetables in my meals yet, Akira? It’s felt so rewarding, and there’s this recipe that I’ve been dying to try with someone…”

* * *

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Akira: Hey, are you free tonight?
> 
> Akira: Do you want to hang out? 
> 
> Ryuji: Sure, dude. I should be free.
> 
> Ryuji: Got anywhere specific in mind?
> 
> Akira: How about just grabbing some dinner in Shibuya? Does that work for you?
> 
> Akira: My treat?
> 
> Ryuji: Sure, sounds good to me. I’ll see you there!

* * *

Ryuji did not expect to be the first to arrive at the diner. But as he entered the place, he did a quick look around the space, and he couldn’t spot Akira anywhere. That was surprising. So Ryuji took an open booth and waited for his friend to arrive. 

About 10 had minutes passed, and finally someone familiar stepped in the diner. It was indeed Akira, but Ryuji couldn’t stop from giving him a double take; for some reason Akira was dressed in some of his nicer clothes, again without his usual glasses. The same clothes that he usually reserved for special outings at fancy, high-end restaurants with the whole group, or maybe family dinners with Sojiro and Futaba. Akira’s hair was even combed nicely, instead of the usual frizzy mess that fitted with Ryuji’s mental picture of his best friend. 

Akira kind of looked out of place here in the laid back, casual diner. But Ryuji was also quick to shrug it off. Akira had spent this morning with Haru, after all. She might have taken him somewhere fancy. He’ll have to ask them about it later.

Ryuji was quick to catch Akira’s attention, and he smiled and waved the other boy over to him. Akira’s face quickly lit up with a grin, and he quickly and easily slotted himself in the booth opposite of Ryuji.

“Funny. I kinda expected you to be waiting on me.” Ryuji started, smirking at Akira slightly.

Akira shrugged before he spoke up. “I made a promise with Futaba to use trains like a normal person. At least, as long as it’s not an emergency. Something about if I wanted to be Akira, I needed to try living like him.”

“So no more sneaking up on us?” Ryuji couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Akira chuckled at that. “Not if I can’t help it.” And then he frowned for a second. “It's not like I was intentionally trying to scare you all, either.”

Ryuji couldn’t help but laugh at the face Akira was making.

“Seriously dude, does it only work if we can’t see you do it?” Ryuji asked. But Akira only shrugged at that; it seemed he didn’t know the answer to that, either. So Ryuji only shrugged it off, and decided to change the subject. “Anyways, how did your day with Haru go? Do anything fun?”

“I just helped her with her garden.” Akira answered pretty easily. “It felt nice working in the dirt. We had lunch with some of her vegetables.”

“Really?” Well, there went that theory about Akira’s nice clothes. Ryuji made a quick motion at Akira with a wave of his hand. “What’s with the get up, then?”

Akira gave him a teasing smirk as he tilted his head slightly. “What? I can’t look nice when I invite my friend out to eat?” 

Ryuji only rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a date, dude.”

Something flashed quickly in Akira’s eyes. Ryuji almost didn’t catch it as he blinked. And then Akira gave Ryuji a tired smile as he shrugged. 

“I know, I know.” Akira said, words a little softer than before. He paused to sigh before he continued. “I guess, I just wanted to get dressed up for today.”

“No sweat, man. Now that you’re here, let's order something to eat.” Ryuji offered, already pressing the service button.

A few moments later, and their waitress came to collect their order. After they received their drinks, they returned to their conversation.

“So… Akira, do you got anything you want to do this week?” Ryuji asked after taking a sip of his soda. “Because we can chill out like we usually do during summer. But if you want to do something a bit more exciting, I’m sure the others would be down for it.”

Akira was quiet for a second. After spending that moment deep in thought, he caught Ryuji’s gaze. “I would… very much like to go to the beach before I have to go back. Like we did last year.”

Ryuji nodded at that. “Yeah, that sounds totally do-able. Especially now that Haru’s back home. But we should probably make plans when everyone is here. Maybe tomorrow?”

And then Akira nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

That was a solid plan. But that was something that they’d be doing with the whole friend group; not something that the two of them could do alone. With that thought, Ryuji was quick to realize that the two of them hadn’t really had the time to hang out together (but with good reason, considering the whole going into the demon world thing. And everything that followed that). This was the first time they've actually hung out together this summer. And that realization brought Ryuji back to a forgotten train of thought.

“Hey. I know what we can do! Remember?” Ryuji started, already smiling at the idea. “Let’s start planning for Operation: Get a Girlfriend. If no one’s free tomorrow for planning, we can get a head start on it tomorrow.”

Ryuji was already starting to think of some spots people their age hung around. Kichijoji was always pretty popular.

Yet surprisingly, Akira gave Ryuji a look. One that wasn’t very pleasant. It was gone just as quickly, as if Akira had just realized he was making it. It wiped Ryuji’s excited smile off of his face just as quickly. What happened? Did Ryuji say something to piss Akira off?

“Can we not?” Akira half asked, half groaned.

“What, are you scared that no one’s gonna fall for you?” Didn’t they already have this conversation? Really, Akira was the _last_ person Ryuji would expect to have self-confidence issues.

“Not… necessarily. Ryuji―”

“Come on, dude. With your looks? You’re gonna find a girl way before me.” Ryuji couldn’t stop himself from interrupting Akira, smiling as he did so. Did Akira seriously not see how attractive he could be?

Akira gave him a half-pained look, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then thought better of it. Ryuji frowned at that, wondering for a moment if he had said something that had offended Akira. This whole conversation was starting to feel weird. Like they were talking about two different things.

Akira muttered something under his breath. Something that suspiciously sounded like, _“this is not how I wanted this to go.”_

Ryuji didn’t have the time to think about that, because suddenly Akira’s full attention was on him again.

“Here’s the thing, Ryuji…” Akira started, voice suddenly falling low and serious. That caught Ryuji’s attention, forcing him to keep his eyes on Akira. Out of the corner of Ryuji’s eyes, he could see Akira absentmindedly playing with his hands. “I don’t really… want to do Operation: Get a Girlfriend.”

Ryuji faltered slightly, and there was a bubble of confusion forming in the back of his mind.

“That's fine dude.” Ryuji said with a slow nod, but a small frown. “You probably want to spend this week with us instead, right? I can wait until Akira comes back.” There was still the rest of summer ahead of them. That was probably plenty of time to get a girlfriend before school started back up again.

But Akira was already shaking his head earnestly, heaving out a stressed sigh. “No, no. That’s not what I―” Akira sighed again, struggling to find his words. He almost sounded pained. " _Y_ _our Akira_ doesn’t want to do it either. We have the same wants, remember?”

That definitely surprised Ryuji. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why did he― why did you agree to it in the first place?” Ryuji asked. 

“Because Akira was trying to convince himself otherwise.” Akira said, and there was a hint of irritation to his voice. It wasn’t directed at Ryuji, but at himself. There was an angry look to his eyes as he stared down at his hands. And then he was shaking his head, huffing. “But I won’t suffer the same delusions he wanted to. I’m _not_ going to lie to myself. And I’m not going to lie to you, either.”

And for the first time, Ryuji felt like he shouldn’t be hearing this. This suddenly felt _very_ private. If his Akira didn’t want to tell him about this, wanted to lie to him instead, then it felt like a serious breach of trust to have Akira’s _inner demon_ confide in him. Ryuji didn’t know quite what to do, other than try to stop it from happening at all.

“Uh, listen dude. We don’t have to find a girlfriend if you don’t want to,” Ryuji started, and Akira looked very relieved to hear that, “But maybe we should wait for―”

Immediately, Akira cut him off. “No. I want to tell you this. Please. I wouldn’t have brought this up if I didn’t want to.”

And then Akira’s fidgeting hands suddenly reached over the table, towards Ryuji’s. By this point, Ryuji had accepted that Demon Akira had a strange thing for hand holding, so he allowed it. But Ryuji then felt how Akira’s hands felt cold and clammy in his, how he gripped at it with a strange amount of strength. Ryuji probably wouldn’t have been able to pry them off if he wanted to.

Ryuji voiced his observation, hoping it would change the subject. “You, uh. You really have a thing for holding hands. Don’t you, Akira?”

“I want to keep holding them. If you’ll let me.”

“… What do you mean?” 

Akira paused, not answering him right away. Instead, Akira elected to hold Ryuji’s gaze. It was intense, being the center of Akira’s attention like this. Those grey eyes were so familiar, but in this moment, Ryuji felt like he had never really seen them before. Not like this.

Out of Ryuji’s line of sight, Akira’s grip on his hands grew tighter. More desperate.

There was something in the back of Ryuji’s mind that started to fire up. Something that was just starting to tug at the edges of Ryuji’s awareness. A big realization that Ryuji just couldn’t quite see yet, even as he tried to focus on it. But Ryuji could feel the anticipation as it loomed over him. All Ryuji could do in that moment was just stare at Akira, too dumbfounded to do anything else.

Akira took a moment to gather his confidence. And then―

“Ryuji. I like you.”

It took a second for those words to sink in properly. At first, Ryuji thought he had just imagined Akira saying them. But then they did sink in, and it felt like he had taken a physical blow to his chest. Ryuji felt suddenly breathless, and his heart beat off kilter. 

_Oh._

Suddenly, every little thing that seemed off since Akira’s possession snapped into place, shifting perfectly back into Ryuji’s perspective. The little glances, the smiles. The flirting. That kiss back in the other world. The constant _fucking handholding._ It hadn’t made any sense at the time, just little strange moments by themselves. Easy enough to brush off. But now, together, it was the only thing Ryuji could focus on.

He felt like such an idiot for not realizing it earlier. Akira had to _flat out confess to him_.

Ryuji felt untethered, caught somewhere between here in reality, and somewhere else. Maybe the demon world. The only thing that was keeping him grounded was Akira’s hold on his hands. And Akira’s voice.

“And I want to learn how it feels to love you, too. If you’ll let me.” Akira continued, voice growing soft and kind and comforting, despite the desperation that blazed in his eyes. He waited for Ryuji’s response. And when he received none, Akira finally faltered, frowning. “Ryuji?”

Ryuji couldn’t answer him.

His best friend liked him.

 _His best friend liked him_.

“Please say something, Ryuji.”

Ryuji’s mouth felt far too dry. He swallowed, and it felt like he was choking on empty air. “I… uh…” 

Ryuji still couldn’t quite parse what Akira said to him. He knew what Akira just said, just not how it correlated back to him. (Him, _why him?_ ) Ryuji didn’t know what to say. Akira’s grey eyes kept their hold on him; keeping him in place and unable to move. And yet somehow Ryuji found the strength to finally break away from Akira’s gaze. And his gaze fell down onto the tabletop.

Akira’s fingers twitched at Ryuji’s hesitance. And then they dropped his hands altogether, retreating back into the safety of Akira’s lap.

Ryuji still didn't have control over his mouth. He sputtered a few times, words not quite forming. Ryuji had to settle with a limp, “I don’t… what?”

What did this _mean_?

The silence that immediately followed was harsh. It felt like the diner as a whole fell quiet just for them. Everyone stopped just to take a breath at the same exact moment. And it exposed Ryuji to the awkwardness that was now fully encompassing the two of them. Ryuji could still feel Akira’s eyes on him, burning into him. 

And then Akira stood up. Still Ryuji didn’t look up to him; only catching the movement out of the corner of his eyes.

“I see.” Akira was trying to keep his words steady and even. But this version of Akira was not good at keeping his emotions in check. He wore his heart on his sleeve, for everyone to see. Ryuji could hear the tremor in Akira’s words. The hurt was thick and palpable. 

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. Please.” He paused, still waiting for Ryuji’s response. And still when that didn’t come, he ended with a choked up, “Goodnight.”

And then Akira fled.

And for a solid minute, Ryuji just sat there, dumbfounded. 

(Akira liked him like that?)

What was Ryuji supposed to do with this information? He had never thought that anyone in their friend group thought of him like that. They were all super close, even as it was. Ryuji had never imagined having such strong friendships with anyone, except with these people. Sure, Ryuji once had a small crush on Ann back in middle school. But as soon as he learned that Ann was much more interested in girls, he backed off of that real quick. 

And Ryuji had never even considered guys before. He never even thought they were an _option_ before.

But Ryuji’s brain went off like a firecracker, as he realized that suddenly they _were_ an option. They always had been an option. But Ryuji had been completely blind to it this _entire goddamn time_. And then Ryuji was forced to make another quick, heavy realization. And it felt like another punch to his gut. 

_Oh fuck._ He did kinda find guys to be just as hot as girls. 

But Ryuji had never even considered that Akira would… would think of him like…

Akira liked him.

Did he like Akira like that?

Something in Ryuji’s gut rolled, making him nauseous. He felt awful, guilty as hell.

Finally, something clicked back into place. Ryuji swore as he felt a rising sense of urgency settle over him. It wasn’t quite panic, but it felt far too close to that for comfort.

Fuck. He was making a mess out of this. Like he always did.

Ryuji jumped out of his seat and practically sprinted out of the diner, the hostess calling out after him, shouting about the unpaid bill. Ryuji couldn’t care less about that as he stormed out into the streets of Shibuya. Immediately he started sprinting towards Station Square. Hopefully Akira had kept Futaba’s promise; hopefully he hadn’t decided to _fucking teleport_ away. Ryuji shoved people out of his way as he ran through the Crossing, keeping a careful eye out for a head of fluffy black hair.

Ryuji finally spotted Akira as he made his way down the stairs. 

By the time Ryuji finally caught up with Akira, he was already waiting on the subway’s platform, waiting for the next train back to Yongen-Jaya. His shoulders were hunched, as if he was folding into himself, attempting to disappear into himself. Akira held his phone in hand, and Ryuji could just barely see Akira typing on it. His shoulders still shook slightly in that way Ryuji knew all too well: when you were trying your hardest not to cry at all.

Ryuji didn’t think before he placed a hand on Akira’s shoulder. Immediately, Akira’s head snapped to look at him. And Ryuji was greeted with wet eyes, and a shocked face. For a moment, Ryuji couldn’t say anything. Now that he had caught up to Akira, he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He hadn't planned this far ahead.

So he only embarrassed himself further by giving a short, awkward, “Hey.”

Thankfully, Akira also gave him an awkward, embarrassing, “Hey.”

“Look.” Ryuji started, finally finding some ground to stand on. “I’m sorry for being a dumbass back there. You know that I’m not… good when it comes to talking about feelings. And I guess not noticing other people’s feelings, too.”

Damn it, this was hard as hell. Probably the one thing Ryuji _was_ good at was sticking his foot in his mouth. It wasn’t helping that Akira was just staring at him while he spoke, carefully and cautiously. All Ryuji wanted to do was crawl up under a rock. But Ryuji couldn’t do that, not until he finished whatever the fuck he was doing.

“But you’re my best friend. And nothing’s gonna change that. Ever.” Ryuji said, and he tried to make Akira know that he meant it. Completely. Ryuji placed both hands on Akira’s shoulders, and he met Akira’s gaze head-on. He wasn’t going to look away this time.

This really wasn’t the place they should be having this conversation. Right on the train platform, In front of every random person in Tokyo, who could watch this private confession. But they couldn’t change that now.

“I’m sorry for feeling the way that I feel.” Akira finally said. And he sounded so dejected.

“Don’t be sorry. You shouldn’t feel sorry for that.” Ryuji said. “I’m sorry for being such a dumbass.”

“You’re not a dumbass, Ryuji.”

“I’m pretty sure I am. Especially after this.” Ryuji said, going for levity at the moment. When that didn’t work, Ryuji just pushed forward. “But I gotta ask. Why me?”

“Why not you?” Akira asked back. His words were soft, and yet so serious at the same time. Akira’s eyes were still moist, still threatening to spill over. But that horribly sad look on his face was gone now. “You’re one of the kindest, funniest guys I know, Ryuji. You’ve always meant so much to me. Why wouldn’t I fall for a guy like you?” And then Akira smirked. “Plus, you’ve got a great butt.”

Fuck. Ryuji could feel his cheeks start to heat up at that comment. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to hide his blush by placing a hand over his face. It seemed Akira wasn’t beating around the bush, anymore. No more need for hesitant, tentative teases in the way of flirting.

“Wait. You think I’ve got a nice butt? Really?”

“Considering how your Akira can’t stop staring at it, yeah.”

Jeez, this was weird. Ryuji could still feel how hot his cheeks were. “Uh, so uh… how long have you had a crush on me?”

“Since last year.” Akira answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Ryuji couldn’t stop himself from asking. But no, that wasn’t the right question to ask. “Why didn’t Akira tell me?”

“He was scared to lose you.” Akira answered carefully. “He preferred keeping you as a friend, than risk scaring you away. What would have happened if you thought we were creepy?”

“Oh. You know I’m not… like that.” Ryuji said; he felt disgusted even at the notion of that. 

“We knew. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid.” Akira said with a nod.

That seemed to be enough for now; enough things were said between the two. Ryuji felt a lot better, and Akira looked like his mood had drastically improved. That, and he wasn’t actively fleeing to Leblanc anymore. Maybe Ryuji could actually salvage this.

“So… where do we go from here?” Ryuji asked.

Akira was quiet for a second, visibly thinking. “Can we make a deal? Let’s just pretend tonight didn’t happen at all. This wasn’t your Akira’s fault. It’s mine. He shouldn’t suffer from my mistakes.”

That confused Ryuji. He gave Akira an odd look as he spoke. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

Akira frowned, looking just as confused as Ryuji felt. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“I thought you wanted to get together?” Ryuji half asked, half stated.

Akira audibly sucked in a sharp breath. Something akin to hope twinkled in his eyes. “You’re okay with that?”

“Well. I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.” Ryuji said with a shrug. Now that he had gotten over the hurdles of _‘hey, my best friend kinda likes me’_ and _‘wait shit I think I might also like him back’_ , Ryuji didn’t see why they shouldn’t try to make this work. Why they shouldn’t give it a chance. “Why else would I have―”

Ryuji couldn’t finish his question, because at that moment Akira had suddenly tackled him. Ryuji was then flush against the back wall of the train platform, against old posters and the usual dirty grime that came with the subway system. Akira was over Ryuji, almost pinning him into place as he took Ryuji in a deep, desperate kiss. Akira was leaning into him, cupping his face to help angle Ryuji in just the right position.

This time, instead of trying to pry Akira off of him, Ryuji just wrapped his arms around Akira. And Ryuji could feel it as Akira smiled into the kiss. That only seemed to encourage Akira further. Akira was practically buzzing with excitement, and he clung to Ryuji as if he were a life raft. Akira’s hands snaked up into Ryuji’s hair, and damn, Ryuji couldn’t deny how nice it felt to have Akira’s fingers run through his short, prickly hair.

By the time Akira finally pulled away from him, they were both taking deep, heavy breaths, as if they had just completed a marathon. Both were shocked by the immediate passion of the embrace, but not necessarily embarrassed by it. Around them, nosy strangers were starting to watch them, wondering why a pair of teenagers were getting handsy in such an open, public space. Ryuji tried not to pay too close attention to them. 

And it looked like Akira couldn’t care less that they'd attracted an audience. Akira was lazily smiling as he pressed his forehead against Ryuji’s, humming in satisfaction for a moment. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Akira said low, whispering it so only Ryuji could hear him. He sounded far too pleased with himself.

“You’ve already done it once.” Ryuji pointed out with a half-hearted roll of his eyes.

But Akira shook his head. “Felt different, this time. Felt better.”

And just because he could, Akira kissed Ryuji again. Just a quick little peck on his cheek. There was a growing pool of warmth right in the core of Ryuji’s chest. It felt almost ticklish.

“So.” Ryuji started. “This is a thing now.”

“Do you regret it?” Akira asked, starting to pull away.

“No. I’m just- I’m just trying to cement it in my mind.” Ryuji said. Yeah. His best friend just became his boy friend. That might take some time to get used to. But at the same time, Ryuji could only feel excited about all this. “I’m slow, remember? Give me a day to wrap my head around this.”

Akira huffed as he finally did pull away, taking Ryuji’s hand in his. “You’re not slow. A little oblivious, maybe. But not slow.”

At that, Ryuji only rolled his eyes.

“Come on. Maybe we could spend the rest of tonight not talking about our feelings in the subway.” Ryuji said. “Oh shit. We need to go pay the bill back at the diner.”

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.”

And yet, before they could head back upstairs, Akira froze in place. Ryuji watched as Akira frowned, pulling out his phone. Did it just buzz with a new message? And then Ryuji caught as Akira’s eyes widened in surprise, and maybe with a hint of panic as well. 

“Shit.” Akira muttered as he started to type a reply.

Ryuji scooted over, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was Futaba messaging him. And as Ryuji read through the messages, he couldn’t help but echo Akira’s sentiment. _Shit_.

> **Private IM:**
> 
> Futaba: Akira you need to get your butt home.
> 
> Futaba: Now!
> 
> Futaba: Sojiro knows you’re gone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing this chapter: fuckin' finally. 
> 
> The diner confession was one of the first rough drafted scenes I wrote for this fic and now I finally got to post it. I hope y'all liked it.
> 
> Also this chapter still feels kind of rough, so I'll be back to make minor edits after I've given my eyes a period to rest. No story beats will be changed, just grammatical things.


End file.
